The Closer You Look
by Tony Samuels
Summary: Not a lot of things could affect Harry's mundane life in the house of his abusive relatives. But then, you don't need extraordinary things to obtain extraordinary results. A seemingly simple step pitched his life into a direction no one had ever expected. Harry Potter, the Jack of all trades and Master of Misdirection. Intelligent! Harry.
1. A Deck of Dreams

**This idea was something that abruptly hit me out of nowhere and I felt that I just had to continue down that train of thought.**

 **Disclaimer: There are only two certainties in this world: The continuity of Life and the inevitability of Death. Everything in between is merely an illusion we created for ourselves.**

 **I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

The door of the fridge opened with nary a squeak and light filtered down upon the scrawny body of the trembling ten-year-old. In the dark of the night, the usually dim luminescence of the fridge glowed like a miniature sun, and Harry almost lost his courage when the light hit his bright green irises.

But led by the hunger roaring with rage in his stomach, Harry dared a hand into the lower rack where most of the leftovers were stored, and with a swift sleight of the fingers that belied his tingling nerves, he gathered a couple of loaves of bread before rushing to close the door. The door hit the surface with a thud, which echoed in the terrifying silence of the kitchen, and his heart pounded in his chest as he waited for the inevitable noise of his uncle shouting in a fit of fury.

The silence prevailed.

Clutching the bread in his hands, he gulped down the heart that got stuck in his throat, and with a smile that could rival the radiance of the full moon outside, Harry ran to his supposedly locked cupboard without triggering a creak in the wooden floor. It was commendable that a mere child, no matter how slim, could glide through the air at such speeds but sadly, there was no loving family to cheer for his achievements with a smile.

Mindful of his previous folly, he gently closed the door to his cupboard and collapsed down on his rickety bed, with blood rushing through his veins. To the hungry kid, the bread lying on his bed seemed like a pirate's chest of gold, and without wasting a moment, he ravaged the food like a boy starved for weeks; which actually was true. His mind conjured scenarios of Dudley leaping out of a corner to snatch the food out his hands or his aunt smacking him on the head before punishing him with a ton of chores, and with renewed vigor, he ate the whole loaf in a matter of seconds.

Once his hunger was partly satiated, the possible ramifications of his actions reached his mind and the dread that left him a few moments ago rushed back with vengeance. Holding his head in his quivering hands, he palmed his face before sighing. All the probable scenarios zoomed through his mind and with each passing thought, his body trembled harder.

But as the seconds flew, exhaustion crept upon his senses, partly due to his anxiety and largely due to his exploits, and after praying to the deities he didn't believe in, he slumped down on the mattress. The last thing he thought about was the feeling of excitement that coursed through his veins as he stole. Ignoring the stray thought, he gave in to his fatigue.

* * *

The annoying noise of knuckles rapping on the door hit his ears, and with a tired shake of his head, he got out of his bed. He stretched his body while making sure not to hit the walls and walked out of the door before wincing as the light hit his eyes. The usual clamor in the hall reached his ears, with his aunt shouting orders at him all the way from the kitchen, while his Uncle dutifully added his own grumpy remarks as he read the newspaper.

The events of the previous night did not reach his mind until he was staring at the bacon he was frying in the pan. He steadied himself so as to avoid falling down his makeshift stool as he jerked in shock. _Oh, god. He was going to die a slow, painful death._ For the entire time the Dursley family was feasting, he was struggling not to lose the grip on his meager reserves of courage and come out clean to his aunt or uncle. As he nibbled on the crumbs of bacon bestowed upon him, Dudley looked at him suspiciously before going to back to chugging down the orange juice. That was the only precarious situation he had found himself in for the whole morning.

He escaped Scot-free.

* * *

During his entire stay at school, Harry was on cloud nine. Dudley, who noticed the strange behavior of his cousin planned an ambush with the help of his moronic group of miscreants and the result of which was why Harry was dashing down the stairs. It was only through years of practice that Harry was able to outrun an entire gang who were hell-bent on beating him up and he ducked through another corridor to reach the area where the senior students usually resided.

He could see a few older boys smoking in a usually desolate corner and he was about to avoid that particular area when he heard one of the teachers shout. "Hey! What are you doing there?"

Harry cringed in fear and readied himself for another detention. It so happened that the teacher was all for ignoring him to chase the older students, who ran when they heard the shout.

His gaze fell upon a pack of cards cluttered on the floor, courtesy of the seniors. After making sure that no one was around, he piled the cards into a neat stack. After living his whole ten years of life with a distinct lack of any toy to play, it was only natural that Harry was fascinated by mere playing cards. It helped that they were of high quality; probably the property of some spoiled brat like Dudley. After the incident that occurred the previous night, his moral values were a bit skewed and his self-reasoning for stealing them solidified his resolve to keep them for himself.

He had seen many of the magicians on TV - while sweeping the floor or cooking in the kitchen - employ a set of cards for most of their tricks called...misdirection or something...and they cut huge watermelons or made the cards disappear from sight with merely a flick of the wrist. Not a few times, Harry was captivated by their simple maneuvers which resulted in unbelievable acts of shattering the reality itself and there were times when he hoped that his supposed freakish nature could do such things. His hopes were in vain, it always seemed.

But staring at the deck of shimmering cards in his small hand, he felt a fire ignite in his heart and it grew, engulfing his entire thought process with single-minded determination. He grinned before drawing a random card from the deck.

 _A Joker._ The Cheshire grin on the clown's face matched Harry's own and he returned the card to its plastic family. **The Pledge.**

* * *

He would be lying and not a little exaggerating if he told that the art of misdirection came naturally to him. It took him a whole day to just learn how to shuffle the deck without making the cards land on the floor in an undignified heap.

Even after that, he succeeded only once before plunging down to step one again. It seemed that it was not as easy as the performers on the TV made it seem. His thin, nimble fingers were a huge advantage while holding or drawing a card but his small hands nullified the control he had to cold hell. Not that it discouraged him but he couldn't say that it didn't frustrate him to no end. Not just once, he felt the urge to throw the cards into a bin but that was only until he realized that these were the only possession he ever had.

Another reason was that these cards gave him a purpose. Gone were the days where he would sulk in his cupboard until the night only to wake up in the morning to live the same mundane routine once again. His time during the breaks at school was not spent biting his nails or staring at the other kids with a heavy ache in his chest.

His proficiency at misdirection flowed into his stealing skills and every night, he would enter the enemy territory a.k.a Dursley kitchen and emulate the James Bond character he had seen on TV, ducking and crawling under the table or the sofa, like a spy, before stealing the leftovers with a quick flick of his hand. Extra food went into the secret dungeon a.k.a hole in the floor and he would practice his skills while lazily munching on the extra food.

Insufferable bastards a.k.a spoiled brats had their property stolen in a blink of an eye and teachers were pulling out their hair out of frustration as the complaints piled up. No one ever had the reason to be suspicious of the timid, underfed, probably autistic, green-eyed boy sitting in a corner of the classroom.

Occasionally, Harry had the desire to show off his prowess to gain one or two friends but then he would have to reveal all of his well-hidden secrets and if there was one thing he surmised from observing a number of magicians, it was that a skilled magician should never reveal their secrets. It was easier said than done, but then, just the thought of falling back into his old routine of physical and mental abuse frightened him enormously and it was not something he was looking forward to. So, as he had unerringly done for years, he ruthlessly quashed the urge for any sort of companionship.

Not all of his skill was accumulated from his own ideas and experiments. The school library had a very good, albeit a limited collection of books and articles on the art of misdirection. Considering the little time he had to practice this art due to his chores and school work, it was more than sufficient for now.

Patience and extreme control over one's emotions was one of many qualities required for a person to master these deceivingly simple techniques but Harry Potter was anything but a slacker. He studied rigorously under the watchful eye of the librarian and it was convenient that Dudley's gang would never dare to bully him in such a place.

Patience was something that one would indubitably develop when they stay in an abusive home where your own relatives do not feed you for days and sometimes you have to wait for an indeterminate amount of time to just go to the bathroom.

But control over emotions was something he was not good at and the accidents that _randomly_ happened around him when he's pushed to the edge was a testament to this widely known fact.

Meditation made him want to jump over the ledge; with frequent headaches especially in the vicinity of his lightning bolt shaped scar and the feeling that something was crawling along the surface of his mind; It was no wonder that he hated meditation with a passion. The books said that he would get used to it after a few days but it seemed that his mind had its own mind. Seriously.

But he found out that pain was an excellent driving factor and a great motivator. Instead of the standard position of sitting cross-legged on the floor, he inverted himself, with his body parallel to the adjacent wall and as all the blood rushed into his head, he concentrated on the agony he experienced as his scar burned. Definitely a _great motivator_ , he agreed, as blood dripped down his scar.

His control over his emotions led to a huge decline in the number of accidents around him and if there was someone happier than his relatives, it's himself. Less number of accidents meant less number of punishments and detentions and hence, more time for himself. It was a win-win if he had ever seen one.

But he could only hone his skills for so long and don't end up being bored; So bored that he was currently sitting on the rooftop of his school where he had once found himself after struggling to escape another thrashing from his cousin's gang.

Even after all this time, he had no idea how he ended up here out of all the places in Little Whinging. Shuffling his cards in his hand, he watched indifferently as one of the cards separated from the deck due to a sudden gust of air and it glided down to the ground. Only after it hit the ground did it occur to him that one of the cards was out of reach and it took another moment for the realization to hit home. "Oh, hell"

He sighed, berating himself for being so careless. Now, he would have to wait until he got down to pick the card and that's only if someone didn't beat him to it first. God, he was stupid. Now that he climbed all the way to the top with great effort, he still had to figure out how to descend down and in a ridiculous way of defying the common sense, climbing down was not as easy as climbing up.

He could see the card glinting back at him...wait a minute...glinting? He gazed at the sky, noticing the black clouds hovering above his head and the distinct lack of the Sun. Then how the hell was his card shining? Now that he thought about, there were moments in the night when his cards lit up the whole room before losing their radiance as he opened his eyes. Were they sucking out his life force or something? That was not a comforting thought.

He picked out one of his favorite Joker cards and scrutinized it until a telltale glint emanated from the card and as he concentrated harder, the brightness amplified. Startled, he dropped the card and it landed down on the roof, as though it didn't just glow like a street light in the night moments ago. Before he could lose another card to the traitorous wind, he clutched it in his hand and swiveled it on his palm. What the heck was happening here?

He shifted his gaze to the card lying on the ground and noticed that it was a seven of spades. How could he even perceive it from such a height? Nothing suspicious. But then why was he feeling a tugging in his mind as he stared at the card? It was a moment of significance. This simple question could open a mysterious door and that journey could lead to an adventure. And that adventure could lead to an entirely new life. No pressure.

Like a man possessed, Harry jumped to his feet without shifting his gaze from the seven of spades, and without wasting a moment in thought, as thinking would lead to doubt and doubt would lead to inaction, he leaped from the rooftop. A leap of faith, in the most literal of terms.

Had anybody asked Harry what was running through his mind before taking a freaking dive from the rooftop, Harry couldn't have answered. Not because he was hesitant to reveal a huge secret but because he had no effing clue.

Nothingness was the apt way to describe his state of mind at that time. Was he aware of what he was about to do? No. Was he feeling an unmeasurable amount of power running through his veins? God, no. Did he have any idea that he could end up as tomato sauce on the ground, with his brains splattered like the said tomato? Of course not. He was not crazy. If he had any idea, he wouldn't have jumped in the first place. Obviously.

But one certain feeling was prominent. Conviction. Not hope, though. Hope would have meant that he was aware of the chances of failure. Of that, he wasn't.

Hope betrayed him in the past. Stabbed him in the back when he was most vulnerable. As a child, he had hoped that his parents would someday rescue him from the hellhole he called home. Then he got to know that his parents were dead.

Maybe a distant relative? His only living relatives were the Dursleys.

A hero, someone who lived to save young children like him from a life of abuse and loneliness. Heroes didn't exist in the real world and if they did, they did not care about little boys like him.

So as each possibility died, his hope deteriorated; until it died a pitiful death on a late Saturday night, while he was bleeding in his cupboard after his uncle showed him how much he was worth to his relatives and to this world in general.

So, no. Hope was out of the equation for so long that it was laughable to even mention it in the passing.

But conviction? Harry never resolutely believed in anything his entire life. Probably because he thought for so long that his life was not his own to live. Why believe in something when you were not in control of your own fate?

But for the first time, as he stared at the stolen card, ironically, he felt a sense of belonging. That whatever the card was, it was a part of him. Now if he didn't have conviction upon himself then what could he possibly have upon?

As the air gently lapped at his face, Harry thought of nothing but the seven of spades. Imagining the card vividly in his mind, he tugged hard at the thread connecting them and commanded it to return to him. Now the school building was not that tall and in a precious few seconds, after which the cold air caressing his body would be replaced by hard ground, he would have to figure out the mystery of the card. It helped that he had experienced this feeling before and grasping that feeling in mind, he disappeared.

The feeling of weightlessness dissipated into thin air, figuratively, and his body slammed onto the ground with much less force than anticipated. It certainly hurt but the sense of euphoria that encompassed him eclipsed everything he had ever felt and probably everything that he ever will. He had teleported! **The Turn.**

* * *

Did you ever come across that fleeting feeling or a dream or an idea that you once experienced but then before you could confine it between your fingers, it dissipated like fine mist?

If you did, you probably hate it more than anything you ever hated in your life. At least, that was what Harry was feeling at the moment.

Whatever he did the other day, it was impossible to reproduce again and this time, he was not sure that he could survive another suicidal encounter with the ground.

The consequences of his action hit him the moment he was capable of coherent thought and the spine-chilling images of his death were drifting through his mind in high definition. He couldn't ascend the stairs for days without quivering like a leaf stuck in a storm. Heights were scary things indeed.

At least now, he had a vague idea of what was happening and one of his philosophies in life was that something is always better than nothing. It wouldn't solve your problems but it was useful when you were stuck in a shady corner. Maybe it was about time to try the watermelon trick.

He imagined the feeling of complete control over the card and commanded it to sharpen enough that it could cut a watermelon in half. He bought a watermelon from the spare money he stole from his uncle - Not that it was as tough as it sounded. His uncle had the attention span of a goldfish - and placed it on a park bench.

Usually, kids didn't visit this place because it was so far from the entrance/ exit that a zombie could catch up to you by the time you escaped. Since it was in such a deserted area, no lights were installed and during the night, it was as dark as it could possibly be. So, a deathly combination for scared kids and did you know the best part? Dudley still wakes up his mommy to go to the bathroom.

He threw the card, a four of diamonds and it hit the green melon before dropping down like a puppet with its strings cut. Apparently, watermelons were tougher than he thought.

Again, he tried. No result.

Concentrate harder. No result.

Imagine the card cutting the melon. Ah! Damn. That card went so out of trajectory that it wasn't even funny. No result.

Vivid imagery? Nope. By the end, some of the cards were lying in a heap on the mud below the melon while some were scattered on the bench.

He reached home far later than usual and by that time, the moon was hanging in the sky, partially hidden by the clouds. It was a starless night.

His soft knock on the door echoed in the silent hall and untypically, Dudley opened the door with a smirk on his face. "You are dead today", he whispered or at least tried to but it still came out as the noise of a tin-can scraped against a tar road.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the glee on his cousin's face before shrugging. If Dudley was being stupid, then everything was fine with the world. Harry closed the door.

By the time he turned around, Dudley was holding his collar in a vice-grip, with the stupid smirk still visible on his face. God how he wanted to lacerate the smirk out of his face.

With barely any effort he ducked under Dudley's hand before poking Dudley's wrist with his index finger. As a slight shock trailed down Dudley's arm, he released his grip on Harry's collar. All of it happened in under a second and by the next moment, Harry was standing in front of Dudley with a similar smirk on his face.

"How did you do it?" Dudley yelled in a fit of rage, shaking as though he was denied his fifth meal of the day. As Dudley's flushed face resembled a rotten tomato, Harry took pity on the boy.

"Magic", Harry smiled cheekily, unaware that his uncle was dallying around the corner. The temperature of the room plummeted to negative values and Harry belatedly noticed the punch his uncle aimed at his head. He hit the door behind him with a resounding thump and grazed down the door until his knees hit the floor.

It was as though the word triggered some sort of invisible 'On' switch in his uncle's head and it was only his luck that this happened to be a Saturday. Saturday meant extra work for his uncle while all of his other co-workers lounged in their homes. It was his uncle's fault that he could never complete any of his work on time but no matter the reason, it was Harry who suffered the brunt of his uncle's fury.

"You will never speak the word again in this house if you want to live, you ungrateful freak", his uncle yelled while aiming a kick to his stomach and even through his fog-filled vision, Harry could observe that his uncle's face reached a whole new spectrum of color. A light purple painted on a wall of red and blue. Normally, this image would have set Harry into a fit of laughter but today he would be grateful if he could utter a word.

It was nearly after a minute of incessant beatings that his aunt seemed to take pity on her bloodied and broken nephew and she pushed him into the cupboard with a forceful shove. He landed on the wooden floor in a bloodied heap, reminiscent of the last time he was in such a state.

But what no one noticed was the glint in Harry's green irises. He rose from his position and chucked the two fifty pound bills he stole from his uncle during the thrashing into his secret dungeon.

He crawled over to the bed and took the support from the cot's leg to steady himself. He took out the deck of cards that was in his pocket and pulled out a random card. A smile blossomed on his bloodied visage and blood slipped down into his mouth from his broken nose to coat his white teeth in a river of red.

While his uncle was hell-bent on shattering every bone in his body, Harry had a flash of insight when he felt that he might die if this abuse continued. The insight led to a discovery about what he was missing when he was trying to cut the watermelon.

 _Killing intent._

He merely thought of cutting the melon but it required a sinister desire to truly cut it, as though it was something that was alive and he must wish from the bottom of his heart to kill it. To watch it bleed. To feel the life trickle out its body. To be ruthless.

Unlike the other times, he did not throw the card while imagining the wall break or feel an overwhelming strength in his hands. He aimed the card to destroy the wall; without a hint of pity.

The card sailed through the air with a purpose and the wall in its way was merely an obstruction. It cut through the concrete like butter before embedding itself into the wall.

He did not have the energy to even cheer at his success but the sense of fulfillment that settled in his heart made up for it. He limped over to the wall before plucking the card out of it. _A king of diamonds._

 **The Prestige.**

On that fateful day _,_ _A wizard was born_ in the Cupboard under the Stairs, Number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging _._

* * *

 **Author's note: So, how was it? Do review your opinion. It helps me to further improve my ideas and change accordingly. Thank you.**

 **The Pledge. The Turn. The Prestige.**

 **If you do not know what these three words mean, then you missed one of the best movies of the past decade. It's 'The Prestige' by Christopher Nolan.**


	2. A Game of Luck

**People usually say that the first chapter or the prolog is the most important. I disagree. It's the second chapter that adds the flair to the story and aims it in a definite direction. The first chapter is merely an idea, a coalition of random thoughts, but the second? Now that is where the story truly begins.**

 **Disclaimer: Freedom grants you the wings to soar the skies. But the higher you rise, the lower you fall. You can only swim against the waves for so long before the ocean drowns you.**

 **I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

The summer always presented him with more time than he desired. While the other students relished in the freedom of their homes, Harry had to deal with his Aunt and on weekends, his uncle, for the entire day. That mere thought was more than enough to quell his happy spirits and make him drown in a sea of despair.

While one might think that he must be exaggerating, the fact that he found himself mowing the lawn on a bright Monday morning, while the Dursleys ate the Breakfast he prepared, should be sufficient proof of his despondent mood. It was a good thing that he ate a few eggs from his secret stash before he appeared in the kitchen for his daily chores.

His uncle drove off to his office in his car but not before smirking condescendingly at Harry while eating a strip of bacon. What his uncle didn't realize was that it only reinforced Harry's decision to steal another twenty pounds from his Uncle and a new comic book from Dudley. Ah, how he loved his dim-witted relatives.

Collapsing on the soft grass beneath him, Harry stared at the flock of birds of gliding in the air and the image of the bright blue sky once again diverted his thoughts to the question that was plaguing his mind for the last few days: Could he settle with what he had?

It was a troubling thought as deep down, he clearly knew the answer. God, No.

For years, he had this thought lingering in the back of his mind; could he survive without the Dursleys? Every single time, to his consternation, the answer was a resounding 'no'. It might be the lack of belief in himself since he had always been regarded as a no-good freak or it could even be the realization that he would be leaving the only family he ever had. Though they might not be on even terms, the blood of his mother flowed through the veins of his aunt and in a way, he would be forsaking the heritage of his mother.

His mother and father were drunks who lost their lives in a car crash. Such a depressing thought. He had heard it time and time again but it was so hard to believe the words spewed by his relatives when his heart wouldn't accept the fact. Couldn't accept the fact.

In the end, any of it might not matter and he could be bound to live his whole life as a slave to the Dursleys and that was what pained him the most. More than the notion that his parents wasted their whole lives in an inebriated stupor, only to die at a young age, leaving their only child in the hands of their uncaring relatives. He was not resolved to throw away his precious life.

The pack of cards resting in his pocket confirmed his resolution; a silent promise to himself that he would take control of his life.

Well, he had spent enough time on melancholic thoughts for one day. It was about time to test his new theory and while it might take a while, he was sure that his aunt wouldn't care if he dropped dead on the lawn. Well, she might be worried about the state of her pristine garden but the concern vanished after that point. So, why not devote his time to an experiment that might or might not take him far away from his relatives?

The hypothesis was that he could teleport to the position where his card was situated but he did not have an estimate of how far he could traverse with the use of this skill. The distance was definitely greater than the height of his school - There was no way in hell that he would ever forget that experience - but his data was limited to that single scenario.

So he devised a plan that might discover the range of this technique: Stick one of his cards to the back of a bus and when the bus halted at one of the designated stops, he would teleport to that place. While it was a solid plan, the problem was that if it failed, he would lose one of his invaluable cards. Well, as wise men said, 'Only those who risk going too far can find out how far they can go.' It perfectly depicted his current predicament.

As a precaution, he already boarded one of the buses the previous day to note the distance it traveled between each stop and to be honest, the numbers were not in his favor. He tested his skill to a great extent but this would be a sure-shot scenario; either he could do it or he would fail.

He waited at the designated stop in Privet Drive, ignoring the people who were staring at him curiously – For the last time, I am not lost, Dammit! Can't a kid travel in peace? – while tapping his foot incessantly on the concrete to subdue his agitation. The bus arrived a minute late, during the time which Harry was forming megalomaniac plans of taking over the world and as the people swiftly boarded the bus, he slipped between them to reach the end of the vehicle. He positioned the card, seven of spades, securely behind the number plate and ambled over to the benches once again. Now, all he had to do was wait until the bus reached its destination.

There was a particular reason why he selected the seven of spades for this experiment. He found that certain cards possessed certain powerful traits, as in the sense that they could be more effective than the other cards for a particular technique. The unique trait of a card was determined by how often it was used for that particular technique and whether that was the card that was initially used to test that skill. Another peculiar thing he noticed was that even after repeated and extensive use, not even a single card had a scratch on them but after witnessing a card cut through a wall, it was not hard to believe.

The seven of spades was the first card he utilized for teleportation and hence, it was more effective; like a dozen times more effective for that particular skill. The king of diamonds, which he employed to drill a hole through a wall - He still couldn't believe it that actually worked - could even cut through metal like it was paper and while the remaining cards could also achieve this feat, the results were much more pronounced when the king of diamonds was used.

He checked the time on the clock that was attached to the wall behind him and it seemed that in a minute, the bus would reach the next stop. Taking his time, he strolled down to a deserted area as people usually lose their wits when they notice a boy vanishing off the face of the earth, and psyched himself for one hell of a trip.

Concentrating on the tugging feeling in the back of his mind, which was so faint that it took him a few moments to just perceive it, he disappeared...only to appear at a short distance from his vantage point. 'What the hell happened?'

Before he could ponder over this unexpected result, he felt the connection between the card and his mind fade a little and with a desperation that only comes with the fear of losing something precious, he tried to teleport again. This time, it must have worked as he felt the houses around him pass in a hazy blur and before he could lose focus, he closed his eyes and searched for the feel of his card.

With a painful smack, he hit the back of the bus and gently slid down the metal surface to land on the road. This teleportation would be the death of him someday. He just knew it.

"Are you fine, kid?" The driver who came to inspect the reason for the sudden noise asked in a worried tone and Harry simply waved him off with a smile.

"You kids these days should look where you are going," The man grumbled as he returned back to his seat.

"Good advice," Harry concurred but the foolish grin on his face contradicted his words. What he just did was as dangerous as it was exciting and he simply couldn't resist the urge to do it again. It must be how riding a roller coaster must feel like...well, a roller coaster ride that ends with you being smacked face first to the back a bus but well, it was the novelty of the experience that mattered.

Dusting off his clothes, Harry searched for another deserted area to perform the feat again but only after noting the distance and time it took for the teleportation. This time, he came to halt a few feet away from the bus and at his delighted cheer, some of the passengers, along with the driver, glanced his way. The passengers went to back to what they were doing after a moment, probably because kids cheering for no utter reason must be common these days but the driver narrowed his eyes as he stared at him. The man must be wondering why the hell this exuberant kid was following the bus or how on earth the kid reached the bus when there was no other vehicle in sight.

Now that he thought about it, it must be the second reason.

But the suspicions of some urban driver did not dishearten Harry and he methodically noted the time and distance before strolling down to another abandoned area. This cycle continued for a few more times and after the first encounter, Harry made sure to stay out of sight of the cynical driver and since there were no police officers chasing after him, he must have succeeded.

Though the trip was thrilling, Harry was bound to get tired after a few more attempts and that moment came when the bus was about to enter the city center of London. After the final teleportation, Harry felt as though his entire life energy was forcibly sucked out of his body and while taking deep breaths, he leaned over the side of the bus. It was a good thing that he ceased his adventure at this point as he was sure that once he entered the city, someone was bound to notice his abrupt materialization and as it was proved time and time again, people noticing a shocking thing would never end up being a pleasant experience.

"Were you traveling on top of the bus, boy?" the driver appeared out of nowhere, startling Harry out of his reverie and Harry once again found himself on the road while staring at the face of the man hovering above him.

Now, he had no choice but to say 'yes' as there was no believable explanation for the fact that he traveled all the way from Little Whinging to London without the help of any transportation.

Harry ducked his head into his chest and nodded morosely and by the time he looked back up, he was pouting with a few crocodile tears forming at the edges of his eyes. "I'm sorry but my relatives never let me out of the house!" he gently swabbed the tears out of eyes. "I was saving the money for my return trip"

While only one of those statements was true, the driver had no reason to know the truth, did he?

"Even then, it's a pretty dangerous thing ya did there", the man groused but his tone softened a bit. "Now that you're here, what will ya do?"

"I'll take the return bus home", Harry replied easily and the man had to struggle not to deadpan at the answer.

"That's a...good thing to do", the driver agreed and informed him about the bus he should take to reach Privet Drive. Though the info was utterly useless to him, it was the principle that mattered and Harry did his best to appear as inquisitive as possible.

"Thank you, Mister", Harry bowed and the man ruffled his hair before sauntering over to the front of the bus.

"Take care, kid", the man added with a wave of his hand. "And don't repeat it next time."

"Sure", Harry chirped as he waved back before bouncing over to a nearby alley, which was situated between two tall buildings. The seven of spades was clenched tightly between his fingers and Harry had faith that as long as he had these cards with him, he was fairly safe. Even under the afternoon brightness of the sky, the alley was relatively dark but instead of wisely avoiding the shady area, he dared to explore the place.

It was not because he was suddenly feeling heroic enough to deal with the underground mafia of London or stupid enough to engage in a fist fight with a street thug but because he heard the one word that lured him into scouting the alley. Poker.

While it was true that he could do feats with cards that most humans only dream of, he was oblivious of the one thing that any person with a deck of cards would be aware of. Card games. You could only play with yourself for so long before you end up bashing your head on the wall and while he was moderately familiar with some of the popular games, he had little to no knowledge regarding how people actually played those games. Since engaging in a contest with anybody from Privet Drive would lead to him being locked behind the door of his cupboard for a week, courtesy of his relatives, the only choice he had was to learn from someone who was too far away from the hawkish gaze of the Dursleys.

With that decision in mind, he bravely infiltrated the secret safe-haven of the criminals of London, only to pause in his steps as he noticed the number of people in there. 'I was just joking about this being the safe-haven!'

Heads turned at the sight of him and instead of fidgeting nervously like he was compelled to do, he walked straight to a man sitting on the ground. "Can you teach me how to play?"

The people looked at each other before cackling with laughter and Harry had to suppress his urge to pout like a child who was denied a bedtime story. "Lookie 'ere, lad. Ya need some serious money ta play 'ere. Do yeh have any pound bills stored in yer little pocket?" the drunk man stammered as he patted Harry's pockets. For the first time in his life, Harry was strangely happy for not having any money with him. Definitely happy, he decided after the man hiccuped as he drank some more from the cup in his hand.

Instead of hurrying out of the alley in fear, Harry merely sidestepped the man and walked forwards. He would not be discouraged by a single drunk idiot, no matter how much he _hated_ the people who were alcoholics. These intoxicated morons reminded of the fact that his parents must be the type of people he was witnessing right now. That was the last thing he needed in his life at the moment.

He surveyed the alley for any person who seemed sober and it appeared as though the lady luck was shining her grace upon him. A few feet ahead of him, a tall but slim man was leaning against the wall in a gloomy corner and though it was hard to see how the man looked in the dark, it was evident that he was not inebriated like his fellow companions.

"Hello, mister", Harry called out as he stood before the man. "Can you teach me how to play?"

"Ah...what?", the man furrowed his brows before he comprehended what the boy was asking. "Oh. Sorry, kid. I can't."

Harry was about to leave, apparently unaffected, to continue his futile efforts but halted in his steps when the man shouted over to him. "Hey, kid. Wait a minute."

Harry twisted in his heels to face the man, who was staring at the card clenched between his fingers. "Can you show me the card?"

Harry thought for a moment before hesitantly handing it over. He was the one who's in desperate need of help and trust was required when dealing with favors. Had the alleyway been a little less dark, Harry would have noticed the slight widening of the man's eyes. "Can I know your name, please?"

Ok. This was going a bit far and was definitely treading on the boundaries of being personal but it was not as though he was someone relevant or famous in this world. So, with great reluctance, Harry answered the question. "Harry. Harry Potter."

The man almost dropped the card he was holding in his hands but righted himself at the last moment. "Ah. Nice to meet you, Harry."

Harry nodded in return, though it might not have been visible under the poor lighting conditions. "And you are, Mister?"

"Um...you can call me Moony".

"Really? Moony, eh? You are a genius at picking names," another man commented from the side with a snicker. Harry tilted his head to meet the eyes of a short but stout man.

"Shut up, Elliot", Moony snapped but there was no real bite in his tone. Only a hint of tiredness.

"What! That's not your real name?" Harry yelled as he pointed his finger at the man accusingly. "It's not fair".

"You've got some nerve kid", Elliot commented as he placed a hand on Moony's shoulder. "Don't go around shouting at people for not being fair. Everybody won't be as forgiving as our dear Moony."

Harry jumped back a little at the veiled threat...or advice – that was not exceedingly clear at the moment. His little detour might not be as good of an idea as he had presumed.

"Don't worry. Elliot gets a bit twitchy during the night", Moony shoved his friend away with a gentle push. "I'm sure you'll get to know my real name after a few days."

"So...um, when do we start?" Harry shifted on his feet as he held his deck of cards in his hand.

"As soon as we can, Harry", Moony informed in a calm but exhausted tone. "It's already too late but I hope I can make up for it."

Harry got the distinct feeling that Moony was not talking about a simple game of cards.

* * *

Remus had never believed in vague concepts like destiny or fate. He was a man of logic in general and not a few times, his friends accused him of being ruthlessly pragmatic. But staring at the green-eyed boy before him, who was innocently shuffling the cards in his little hands, Remus was hard-pressed to disregard such foolish notions.

The excruciating ache in his chest returned with a vengeance as he gazed upon the child of his two best friends and the guilt churning in his heart was literally eating him alive. What kid comes all the way to an unsafe alley in London - _Dear Merlin,_ _London! -_ to play a card game? That literally hollered of the unloving environment the boy lived in. He knew he should have ignored the wise rants of Dumbledore and rushed over to adopt the child but his furry little problem and the fact that he couldn't even fend for himself let alone another child, had clouded his decision. But it seemed that Harry would have been better off if he lived with a _werewolf_ instead of his upstanding muggle relatives.

As the full moon was nearing, he was about to meet his friend Elliot, who stole a batch of wolfsbane potion and it happened that his friend was betting with some of the muggles who were playing poker. The wizard obviously had an unfair advantage but his friend's only reasoning was that 'What they don't know won't hurt them." Somehow, Remus felt that this muggle saying was not apt for this situation.

At first, he chalked up the boy as another kid who lost his way but when he heard the other muggles howl with laughter, he grew curious. He pleasantly rejected the boy's request but when he noticed the glowing card in the boy's hand, his interest had piqued.

He was not a scholar in the field of wand making but he had enough knowledge to identify a medium for magic when he saw one. How the hell did this kid even turn a simple playing card into a conductor of magic? Either he had huge reserves of magical power or he was a prodigy in the field of magic manipulation and the terrifying fact was that both of them were not the attributes you usually find in the wizarding world. In fact, the only people he knew who possessed this level of skill or power were Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort himself.

But what he could have never anticipated was that he would come across Harry Potter himself in a freaking alley. Honestly, when the boy told his name, Remus had to quell the oncoming heart attack and even after that, he was startled enough that he actually dropped what he was holding.

"What game are we playing Moony?" Harry's quiet voice shook him out of his stupor and Remus blinked in surprise before the question registered in his mind.

"Um, since we are the only two people playing here", Remus gestured over to both of them as he spoke. "Let's play Blackjack. Do you know how to play Blackjack, Harry?"

Harry nodded fervently. "I have a basic idea."

Remus was suddenly grateful that he had played enough muggle card games when he was a child since his mother was a muggle and he occasionally played with his friends after Lily taught them how to play. The days spent in hiding were that boring.

"Good. I'll be the Dealer and you will be the player."

Remus started the game with absolute confidence that he could easily win against a child but after a few rounds, he was beginning to think that underestimating the kid might not be the wisest thing to do at the moment. The game continued for few minutes during which Remus hadn't even won once and in fact, the only game he won was the first one. Had they been betting, Remus would have been drowning in a hundred pounds of debt by now and that was after considering the fact that the bets he generally placed were rather low. He thought that Blackjack was a game based on luck but the kid couldn't be that lucky, could he?

Wait a minute…why does it remind him of the time he had played this game with Lily? Oh, Merlin! "Harry, are you counting the cards?"

Harry looked up from the three cards clutched in his hand with a puzzled look on his face. "Isn't that how we play this game?"

Did this kid actually count all of the 52 cards in under a minute? Lily would have been so proud if she could witness how much her little child had grown and James would be running around boasting that his kid inherited his wits. Then Sirius would retort something with a snicker which would cause James to deflate like a punctured balloon and Remus would once again be the peace maker between his two violent friends while Lily would watch from the sidelines with a tired smile on her face.

And then Harry would giggle cutely making Lily squeal like a school girl….No. Stop. That was all in the past. Lily and James were dead and Sirius was rotting in an Azkaban cell. And now Harry came all the way to London to learn how to play card games. Merlin, he still couldn't believe it. This kid must have inherited his unshakeable determination from Lily and his penchant for trouble from James.

With a proud smile on his face, Remus answered. "Well, most people can't do that but it's fine", he nodded to himself before adding hastily. "At least I think so."

"Oh!" Harry rubbed the back of his neck as he smiled sheepishly and that simple action hit Remus like a bullet to his heart. Harry had no idea how much he looked like his father at the moment and Remus would be damned if he didn't tell him that.

"So, Harry, did your parents actually allow you to come here on your own?" The smile on Harry's face abruptly vanished at the question and for a moment, Remus cursed himself for being an insensitive bastard. But the problem was that Remus had to know how much Harry actually knew about his parents.

"My parents died in a car crash", Harry mumbled with his eyes downcast but Remus heard it clearly. So clearly that the words were ringing incessantly in the back of his mind, raising his blood pressure to phenomenal levels with each iteration. Car crash? _Car crash? James and Lily died in a fucking car crash?_

The street light at the end of the alley burst in a shower of sparkles, startling all the people in the alley and it was a wonder that that was the only damage inflicted upon the vicinity. Elliot stared at him with a hint of worry in his eyes but at the moment he was far too angry to care about appearances. Remus was certain that the only point in his life when he was this angry was when Sirius was revealed to be the traitor and at that time, it was not because of his inaction.

But now? The savior of the entire wizarding Britain wasn't even aware of his parents let alone his legacy and that was entirely his fault. His fault because he had been a coward who couldn't even gather the courage to look after the child of his best friends. Dead best friends. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

"Harry", Remus called out after making sure that he would not take out his anger on someone nearby. "How much do you know about magic?"

The moment the word 'magic' was uttered, Harry's body was wracked with a shudder and as Remus noticed it, the wolf stirred inside him in a fit of rage to tear the despicable muggles into shreds.

"There is no such thing as magic", Harry parroted the words that his uncle repeatedly beat into him. Yes, the muggles were definitely going to die miserably on a full moon and if Remus had his way, it would be an extremely painful but enjoyable experience. Painful for the muggles and enjoyable for him.

Remus took a deep breath while massaging his temples and voiced the idea that was running through his mind since he heard about the 'car crash'. "Harry, do you think your relatives will mind if I kidnap you?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: A short but important chapter. It should have been longer but it's Friday and I can't end up writing the whole night.**

 **So, what do you guys think? Did you expect this? Just leave a simple Review on your way. A short and sweet, 'Oh my god! That was totally unexpected' will suffice. Thank You.**

 **The next update might be on Monday or Tuesday. Or is it Wednesday? These timelines are so confusing.**


	3. Diaries of a Kleptomaniac

**Beware of Multiple changes in PoV. I want to explain things from both of their perspectives and it's considerably hard to accomplish it by sticking to one point of view. But do not fret, my cute readers. There will be page breaks to indicate the change.**

 **But this chapter is more of an Interlude; a bridge to connect the plot to the next part.**

 **Disclaimer: It's always the people's inherent darkness that brings light to the world. Sometimes in ways that you can't expect. For even the miraculous light to exist, there must be a cold darkness first.**

* * *

"Harry, do you think your relatives will mind if I kidnap you?"

The fact that he was actually considering a complete stranger's rhetorical question was a testament to how much he despised his uncaring relatives. The thought process that triggered in his mind at the question was instinctual, as in the sense that it was something that was not in his control. Even though the answer to the question was a deafening 'no', Harry couldn't help but feel that whoever the stranger was, he was a bit too late to rescue him from this life. He adapted to his miserable circumstances and now that he found the confidence that he could survive on his own, he stumbled upon the hero, who he hoped would liberate him from his piteous life.

"No", Harry answered truthfully but there was no hint of visible relief on his face. "But I don't need saving, Moony. If I accept your help now, I will have to forsake the faith I have in my strength and if I do, I will never be able to stand on my own feet again. Am I making sense?"

* * *

Remus gently patted the boy's head before ruffling his messy hair. "More than you know, Harry."

And his reply was filled with conviction, for Remus lived his whole life on a similar belief. That if he accepted help or was pitied by someone for his furry little problem, then the pride he held close to his heart would shatter like molten glass. It was the reason why he always protested when his friends went out of their way to help him in school after discovering that he was a werewolf. It was the reason why he never borrowed a galleon from his friends even when he was on the brink of starvation and why he never contacted anyone when he was out on the streets with only clothing to spare. It was the reason why he was currently in a dingy London alley, buying stolen wolfsbane potion from his friend and why he was still in the same state as he was ten years ago. For him, his pride was more valuable than life and if his pride was forsaken, then there would be nothing to live for.

In a distorted sense of perceiving the scenario, even the scrawny boy sitting before him was fighting for something more than life. Harry was clinging onto the final vestiges of faith he had in himself and if Remus tried to snatch that away from the determined boy, then he was certain that the raging fire in Harry's emerald green irises would die like burning embers in a heavy storm. He would be a hypocrite to do so.

"Do you know that your simple rejection makes me happier than your blind acceptance ever can?" Remus's grin broadened at the boy's vehement nod. "James would be bursting with happiness if he could see how much his son had matured. It was definitely more than what James himself had managed at your age."

A frown appeared on the boy's pale face at that statement. "James is my father?"

The happiness that was taking root in his chest dissipated like morning fog as the situation hit him like a thunderstorm in a desert. 'He doesn't even know his father's name?' Remus stared wide-eyed as the boy blinked up at him with those large green eyes. 'What have you done, Dumbledore?'

"Do you know my father, Moony?" Harry's voice gradually lost strength as he spoke, with the emotion withdrawn from his face. "Can you tell me about him?"

"Yes. I knew him", Remus replied, trying his utmost to not choke with emotion. 'Know him?' Remus scoffed mentally. "Where do I even start, Harry? That I was your dad's best friend for _ten years_? That even though he acted like a git, he was one of the kindest persons I've ever seen? That he loved his family more than anything and in the end, he died trying to save his family from an evil megalomaniac?"

"One detail at a time, please?" Harry requested as the man before him blustered like a sailor lost at sea before the last statement reached his ears. "What! He died saving his family! Weren't my parents' drunks who wasted their lives? Tell me, everything the Dursleys told me was a lie, wasn't it? My parents didn't die in a car crash, right?"

Drunks who wasted their lives? This kid was going to give him a heart attack by the time this was over. Shouldn't he be the one who must be dropping bombshells upon the oblivious boy? But this point, Remus was far too exhausted to even display an ounce of emotion.

"I have a feeling that this is going to be a long discussion", Remus exhaled heavily as he rose to his feet and the boy followed him without dissent. "Fancy a lunch, Harry? I know a place where they serve the best seafood."

* * *

The last thing that was on his mind at the moment was food and even though he could be less than concerned about lunch, Harry thought that he could at least be gracious enough to concede with the request of a man who seemed to be his best shot at learning more about his parents; who definitely did not die in a car crash.

With a tentative nod, Harry followed the man through a series of twists and turns before arriving at a shabby food corner at the end of a dilapidated street. Judging by the outward appearance, the restaurant might not be a famous place, but at the moment, Harry was not about to protest at the choice of locality.

The inside of the restaurant even less welcoming and though the ambiance was exuding a sense of foreboding, Harry was sure that a better place could not be found to converse in secret. The restaurant was almost devoid of any customers and even the people who were occupying an occasional stall seemed more than happy to mind their own business. It was definitely not a place for a child to come on his own, proved by the sharp set of eyes from the shady corners that roamed his body, causing a chill to travel down his spine and the specks of blood that coated the decrepit walls and the claw marks that decorated the decaying wood of the tables.

"Sit here, Harry", Moony gestured towards a stall that appeared marginally better and more comfortable than the other stalls. "So tell me, what do you want to know?"

"What is your name? I mean, your actual name", Harry fired the moment the words slipped out of Moony's mouth. Though Harry would agree on any sunny day that having a codename was cool, it didn't apply in real life when the other person was playing that trick on you.

"I should have known that this will be your first question", Remus chuckled as he stroked his uneven beard. "But well, I guess there is no use in hiding it anymore as I am telling you the whole story. I am Remus. Remus Lupin."

They might have chatted for hours or days for all Harry knew, interrupted only by a creepy, one-eyed man who served the food and by the time they finished, Harry was in a daze with all the information floating aimlessly in his mind. Remus appeared more tired than he was but that could be because he had to relive all the painful memories he had suppressed for a decade. There were moments when both of them were crying buckets but either Remus was a sensitive guy in general or he did not care about appearances.

His whole life was a lie.

No statement depicted his situation more perfectly than this one did. The fact that he was world famous was less appealing than the emotion that filled his heart as he remembered that his parents forsook their life to protect him. While it saddened him to no end that they died for him, it was also immensely relieving that they were not the people he thought them to be. For the first time, he was happy that everything he knew about his parents was a lie. Because it made the truth that much sweeter.

"I think it's already pretty late", Remus remarked as he stared up the sea of orange that blanketed the evening sky. In contrast to the person he met this afternoon, the Remus he was watching now seemed more relaxed. More content. The worry lines on his forehead faded into the background and a gentle smile was playing on his lips. Now that there was no visible strain on his visage, Remus appeared to be much younger than Harry thought.

"Hmm", Harry replied unconcernedly, making Remus turn to him with eyebrows raised.

"How are you going to reach your home, now?"

"The Dursley's home", Harry corrected before throwing a card with a flick of his hand. As the card sailed through the air, Harry abruptly vanished before plucking the card out of mid-air. "Like this."

Remus gaped at the spot at which Harry previously stood before glancing back at the boy who was standing a few meters ahead of him with his mouth wide open. "You can apparate?"

"Apparate", Harry scrunched his brows in thought before shaking his head violently. "I don't know what apparate means but this is called 'teleportation'."

"Teleportation", Remus parroted with a matching expression on his face. "How does it work?"

"I can appear at any place where my card is present", Harry gestured at the card in his hand before disappearing and appearing in front of Remus again. "Not that hard but it took me weeks to perfect."

"This sounds like a bastardized version of apparition and port key transportation", Remus mumbled speculatively as he eyed the card clutched in Harry's hand. "Wait a minute. How did you appear before me without the help of any card then?"

"Who said that I did not use any card?" Harry smirked as he patted Remus's left trouser pocket. With disbelief etched on his rugged features, Remus dug his hand into his pocket and to his utter bafflement, he found a card lying innocently between a piece of parchment and his handkerchief. Taking back the card from Remus, Harry bounced on his feet as he smiled up at the bewildered man. "Awesome, right?"

Remus nodded absentmindedly before he came to his senses and with growing dread, he fired the first doubt that struck his mind. "How did the card appear in my pocket? Can it appear at any place you wish it to be at? Then you could travel to almost any place. No. There must be some conditions. Should the place be within your range of sight or some location you had already traveled to? But you never knew how the inside of my pocket looked….Then how?"

'Woah. Remus must be a hidden genius', Harry mused as he watched the man ramble on and on until he was out of breath. "You are complicating things when they can be accomplished so easily", Harry pointed out as he twirled the card between his nimble fingers. "I placed it in your pocket while we are on our way to the restaurant. It's a rather useful skill called misdirection. You distract the person with something to shift or displace his concentration from the place you desire him to avoid. I was nagging you insistently about the place we were going to and annoyed by my constant whining, you ignored your surroundings for a moment and that was all I needed."

Remus stared at the boy before him with something akin to wonder as he focused his complete attention on what the boy was explaining with fervor. What was even more amazing was that he acquired his skill on his own without the help of anybody and that was before he even reached Hogwarts! When the boy was chattering away before, Remus assumed that since he had no one to talk to since childhood, he was rather enthused to share everything with a man who would listen to him without complaint. But who in their right mind would have guessed that a mere child could be this cunning? That was a scheme worthy of Slytherin.

"So now can you tell me when I placed the card I previously had in my hand in your right pocket?" Harry challenged with a perfect imitation of a cocked eyebrow he seen on his teacher's face.

"There's another card?" Remus threw his hands up in the air before inspecting his right pocket and with a sigh, he presented the card to Harry. He should have anticipated it the moment his gaze fell on the innocent looking who entered the alley. No boy in his right mind would dare to venture into a shady place without an ace up his sleeve but the boy took to following the adage on an entirely new level. An ace up his sleeve. Literally. "When I hugged to comfort you when you were crying?"

Harry flushed at that memory, embarrassed that the man saw him in a moment of true weakness. "No. It was a good chance but my mind was on another subject to exploit that moment. Any other guess?" At Remus's knackered shake of his head, Harry grinned from ear to ear. "When you were searching your left pocket for the other card."

Remus was too numb to even feel surprised. They chatted for a few minutes after that ordeal and after fussing over his safety like a responsible adult, Remus promised Harry that he would pick him up at the same place tomorrow if the boy was fine with it, to which Harry replied with a series of fervent nods.

"So, how do you go about with this 'teleportation'?" Remus inquired as Harry prepared himself for the trip. The entire concept still sounded sketchy and far-fetched to him but results he witnessed spoke otherwise.

"I always have a spare card in the Dursley's house in case of an emergency. I was testing long distance teleportation this morning and if my estimates are true, then this trip shouldn't be draining much energy."

"You are placing your entire hope on an experiment?" Remus deadpanned after he converted what the boy was explicating into magical terms. It goes as 'I tried apparating for the first time today. It was a success and the second time shouldn't require much of my magical power to accomplish.'

He should teach the boy about magic in case Harry proved to be proficient at managing to cast spells with his cards. It could be an entirely new form of magic for all Remus knew.

"If you are worried about this then you should hear about some of the things I did just to learn this skill", Harry smiled cheekily before disappearing without a sound. There was no telltale pop of an apparition or the air displacement involved with the use of a port key. In fact, this technique seemed to bring out the best of those two techniques that the wizards frequently use.

"This boy is going to be the death of me", Remus smiled wistfully before disapparating from the spot. After all, he had a lot to think upon.

* * *

The next few days following that were enlightening, for the lack of a better word, to Harry. It helped that Remus was a patient man since the exuberance of Harry could not be quelled once it was unleashed from its confines. Remus was rather inclined towards taking 'baby steps' but Harry could not agree less. There was an entire world waiting on the other side for him and this was certainly not the time to impress upon caution.

Though there were not a lot of responsible adults in his life for Harry to depend on, Remus appeared at a time when Harry was about to lose confidence that adults could be trusted. It was a slow progress and the trust was built upon words rather than familial bonds but then, Remus was unperturbed by Harry's habit of crumbling into himself. The tight cocoon he threaded around himself could not be unraveled in a day but at least no one ever came as close as Remus at bringing him out.

When inquired about his incessant insistence on giving Harry his time, Remus answered with a soft smile that he was once just like how Harry was but he found three friends who helped him to open up himself to the world. It was obvious that one of those three friends was his own dad but Remus always closed off when Harry brought up the topic about the other two. Well, if Remus was tactful enough to allow him his space then why couldn't Harry do the same?

So while Remus never prodded him about his life at the Dursleys, Harry never insisted upon knowing about the other two 'Marauders'. They skirted around the issue but after a few days, they were comfortable enough with each other to ignore the topic without leading to an air of awkwardness.

Harry elucidated the extent of his skill with the cards to Remus and to say that Remus was impressed would be an understatement. Apparently, the feats he accomplished with his cards was not too different from what the wizards execute with their wands and after a few demonstrations from Remus, Harry was inclined to agree.

His ability of bisecting objects with cards was a high-powered version of a spell known as 'Diffindo' and a less dark variation of a nasty spell called, 'Lacero.' Though after experiencing apparition for the first time, Harry protested ardently that his version with the cards was miles better and definitely less nauseating when compared to the vile apparition. His dry heaves were a visible proof of his displeasure with the apparition and if all the other wizarding transportation techniques operated on the same principles, then he was more than elated to stick to his graceful teleportation.

From that moment onwards, Harry made it his mission to replicate all the spells the wizards have in their arsenal with his cards and modify them into something much more efficient and powerful, as was the case of 'apparition' and 'Diffindo'. The moment he made the resolution, Remus was beside him with a quill and parchment in either hand and a determined expression plastered on his visage.

Allegedly, Remus loved to teach but there were no opportunities available for him and occasionally when someone did hire him, he was eventually fired after they ferret out his furry little problem. It must be immensely frustrating but Remus merely replied that he got used to it. But Harry inwardly knew that no one ever got used to something as prominent as discrimination over something that was a part of you. He was speaking from experience, after all.

Remus cleverly divided the spells he was aware of into two categories: Card-friendly and Wand-necessary. Admittedly, not a lot of spells were under the list of card-friendly but Remus was confident that they could tweak the spells slightly to make them easier to execute without the help of a wand.

The first spell they tried was 'Accio', which was a fourth-year level summoning spell and at Harry's skeptical glance at the difficulty level of the spell, Remus simply responded that he had an inkling that Harry could thrive exceptionally under harsh conditions. What Harry did not expect was that placing his card on a heavily used London main road was a part of these supposed 'harsh conditions'.

Harry had to watch his card get trampled upon by a thousand vehicles as he struggled for the entire morning to summon the card from its precarious location. It was only when his card was about to get transported away due to it sticking to the tire of a van did Harry succeed in his mission and when the card rocketed into his hands, Harry kissed it fervently, unconcerned by the dirt coating it or the amused snickers of Remus beside him. At Harry's thin eyed glare, Remus shrugged while saying that from he had inferred, desperation seemed to be the best motivation factor for Harry to accomplish his goals.

Harry flung his card at Remus in annoyance and that was when he acquired a second ability for that day; a low-powered 'Bombarda'. His card blew up the moment it touched a physical object but as usual, the card was left unharmed. Remus complained about burning up one of the few tweed jackets he possessed but the pride he had on his face revealed his true thoughts on the matter.

Unfortunately, the mind-blowing progress he had on his first day did not slip past into his practice the next day and at the disappointed scowl on his face, Remus reassured that students far more experienced than him took more time to learn a single spell and it was truly astonishing that he could achieve the feat in a single day. It did not alleviate all of his concerns but it was comforting to know that he did not lack the talent to flourish in the wizarding world. When Harry voiced it, Remus howled in laughter before commenting that Harry would be surprised if he knew how advanced he was when compared to his peers.

As the progress was slow during the next few days, Harry's mind drifted towards the subject that actually led him to Remus: card games. He was still itching to compete with the thugs playing in the alley and though Remus disagreed with his idea at first, he was mollified when Harry reminded him that he would be more than safe with his cards at hand.

Money was a necessity and the next time he arrived to meet Remus near the alley, Harry brought the entire money he stole from Dursleys during the past year. It nearly amounted to seven hundred pounds and when Remus noticed the stack of money in his pocket, his eyes grew to the size of golf balls.

"Where did you get this much money from?"

That was when Harry realized that he never informed Remus regarding his another habit: stealing. It took a precious few minutes to convince Remus that he did not steal this money from innocent kids in school and yes, the Dursleys totally deserved this. After all, he could not help but steal when he was annoyed by someone who thought that they could look down upon him. Apparently, this behavior was not unheard of and it did have a name: kleptomania. So, what? He was a kleptomaniac in the truest sense of the word but it was not as though giving a name to it would alter his radical views on stealing. Fat chance.

He ventured into the alley with Remus in tow and chose a random sensible looking group to play. They sized him up with raised eyebrows, their glances skeptical, but when he withdrew hundred pounds from his pocket, their expressions turned greedy. It was no wonder he lost hundred pounds the moment the poker match began but instead of admonishing him, Remus suggested to place another bet but instead directly raising the stakes to hundred, Harry began at twenty.

It could be the fact that Remus believed in him or the fact that Harry hated losing at something he thought he was good at but Harry did not lose another match. After all, a royal flush was not everyone could manage in their third game and by the time, he was finished, Harry was two hundred pounds richer than he was. Though the thugs were understandably rough looking, they were not as poor as they seemed to be and Harry did not feel any distinct sympathy for looting them.

At their amazed glances, as he managed another royal flush, Remus placed a hand on his shoulder before proclaiming loudly. "Don't be surprised. My boy is wicked smart."

It was no wonder that Harry was gliding in the clouds for the entire day. After all, no one ever loved him and certainly, no one ever lovingly called him, 'my boy' like Remus did. It made him feel as though he meant something to another person and that was when he perceived that there was no greater feeling than being praised by a person who loved you.

So, it came as no surprise when Harry doubled his efforts the next day and though the results were undoubtedly pleasing, as he had near perfected the summoning and blasting spells, Remus's compliments were even more so. Though another reason could be that Remus promised to him that he would finally take Harry to a less populous part of Diagon Alley as his eleventh birthday was nearing.

* * *

Remus apparated over to the southern part of Diagon Alley, with Harry's seven of spades card resting in his coat pocket and to his vast relief, the area was practically deserted. The shops in this part of the Alley were for specific needs and although the needs were not necessarily luxurious, a lot of people do not find the necessity to wander into this region. Harry appeared a moment later with nary a crunch or pop and without wasting a second, he summoned the card from Remus's pocket with just a flick of a finger. The card sailed effortlessly into the waiting hands of the boy and not for the first time, Remus was torn between feeling immensely proud and inexplicably frightened at the boy's progress at magic.

Remus himself was considered to be extremely talented at magic when he studied at Hogwarts but he could honestly agree that his impressive learning curve could not hold a candle to Harry's prodigious talent. That boy was undeniably a natural at performing magic.

Remus trudged forwards with his worn out shoes scraping across the pathway while Harry was trailing behind him as he gaped at the sight around him with unconcealed awe. Remus slowed his stroll to allow Harry to catch up as he was sure that the boy would wander off to Merlin knows where if he shifted his gaze from the ebullient boy.

But it was at pleasant feeling to watch the boy loosen his tight hold on his emotions and act like the ten-year-old he was and not for the first time, Remus thanked fate for giving him another chance to redeem the wrongs he had committed and the promises he broke. Though Harry inherited his single-minded determination from his mother, he was extremely passionate about something other than training; learning everything he could about his parents. That was the only time of the day when Remus saw the boy display any of the feelings he cooped up inside his heart for years.

The last hour of the day before Harry left to the Dursley's was spent on telling stories about his parents to the boy and though it pleased Harry to no extent, there was another reason why Remus made it a daily routine. It was a chance for him to lighten the burden on his shoulders and as he watched the boy listen intently, Remus allowed himself to get lost in the sea of memories. Though there were times when Remus could not bear the guilt churning in his stomach, the effect had considerably lessened. It was on one of such occasions when Remus admitted to Harry that he failed him and his parents and the feeling that everything they fought for had ended up as a lost cause because he lost the only true friends he ever had to the evil they were fighting.

Harry simply stared at him for a few agonizing moments before uttering in an unsure tone. "I am alive, aren't I? My parents went into hiding for my safety and in the end, they succeeded in what they were trying to accomplish, didn't they? Then, of course, it's not a lost cause."

Remus had no idea what was running through the mind of the boy at that time, but hearing those words, it was as though the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders.

Wait a minute….Remus shook himself out of the stupor to scan his surroundings but there was no hint of the green-eyed trouble magnet. He knew that something like this would happen!

* * *

Lucius was not a happy man at the moment. He woke up to the irate face of his wife who was considerably angry that he spent the previous night with some of the members of the old group and it was no secret that whenever they met, they were certainly up to no good.

He sat at the breakfast table, waiting for his wife to calm down and the wretched elf just had to burn his bacon that morning. He roasted the elf's hands on the same pan but even the elf's pathetic wails did not quell his vexation. Then out of all days, his son had to rush down the stairs to whine petulantly that he still did not present the kid with the new Nimbus 2000 released in the market. Hoping that fulfilling the wish of her baby boy could mollify his wife, Lucius set out that morning to Diagon Alley to purchase the new broom.

But luck was not on his side as 'Quality Quidditch supplies' was brimmed with people and if there was something he hated more than venturing into Diagon Alley on a bright morning, it was venturing into Diagon Alley filled with people on a bright morning. So, with an exasperated sigh, he ventured into the desolate areas of Diagon Alley and not a moment had passed as he had thought that this day could probably get better when a boy had collided into him.

"Watch where you are going, you filthy imbecile", Lucius growled irately as he stared at the scrawny form of a boy wearing oversized clothes.

The boy glanced up at him with narrowed eyes and Lucius felt somewhere in the corner of his mind that he once knew a person whose eyes were this emerald shade of green. He ruthlessly squashed that nagging feeling but after a moment, found himself staring at the face of clown printed on a white textured plastic. The card vanished from his sight before he could blink and so was the boy.

With a sniff of disdain, Lucius stomped forward with a grace that only a Malfoy could manage but only to halt in his steps when he realized that he forgot to draw the galleons required for the purchase from Gringotts. With an angry shout threatening to escape his throat, Lucius sauntered over to the large marble building located at a distance.

Lucius stared condescendingly at the Goblin teller at the stall with his lips curled and he could tell that the goblin was no more pleased to see him. Hoping to finish this ordeal as quickly as possible, Lucius snapped in a cold tone. "I desire to access my vault, teller."

The goblin gave a toothy nod and pushed his clawed hand forward. "Your key, Lord Malfoy", the goblin requested in a tone that belied its murderous intentions. But Lucius was far too aware of their inhumane nature to be fooled by their act.

He dug his hand into the pocket of his robe but to his utter shock, he did not find the key to his vault. He was sure that he placed the key in his robe pocket this morning before he left. Then where in Britain did he lose it?

* * *

"Harry! There you are!" Remus breathed a sigh of relief as he found the boy in the middle of a street, fiddling with something in his hands. There was a telltale glint of gold and Remus snatched the key in the boy's hand while Harry protested with a shout. "Hey!"

"Harry", Remus spoke as calmly as possible so that he would not frighten the kid. "Where did you find the key to a Gringotts vault?"

Harry smiled mischievously and Remus had to suppress a groan at the appearance of the smile. "I accidentally bumped into a silver haired man and I was about to apologize when the man shouted at me in a snobbish tone. You know I hate it, right? So I tried to steal something from his pocket but all I found is a bloody key! Now, what's a Gringotts vault? Is it some kind of treasure chest?" Harry mumbled excitedly as he skipped around and Remus massaged his temples to abate an oncoming headache. If what he inferred from the description was true, then the man's definitely Lucius Malfoy. Well, at least he did not steal from a hapless man. To be honest, Remus was struggling to quell the snicker that was threatening to escape but it would not do give Harry even more arsenal.

* * *

Lucius stared blankly at the annoyed goblin but on the inside, his emotions were in turmoil. He knew that he should not have stepped outside today but Merlin, he dared to hope that his instincts were misleading him. "It appears that I have misplaced my key but being the Lord of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Malfoy, I am certain that I am entitled to some leeway. After all, the Malfoy account is one of richest out of the ones that Gringotts maintain."

The goblin seemed pained as it spoke in a gruff tone. "Indeed, Lord Malfoy. In exclusive situations, we could accept the wand of the wizard as a substitute for the key. I do hope that you are carrying your wand?"

A smirk involuntarily appeared on his visage as he listened to the goblin speak and a feeling of pride welled from within his chest. Being a Lord of the House of Malfoy did have its perks.

* * *

Remus lifted the hand that was palming his face and hoping that he could salvage the situation in some way, he brought his stare down to the green eyed menace before him. Just as the apprehension was about to leave his body, Remus watched the boy brandish a sleek black wand from his oversized shirt and Remus's mouth fell open in absolute shock as the boy waved it around.

"God dammit, Harry! Where on earth did you find a wand of all things!", Remus yelled to the high heavens as he felt the forthcoming of a crippling heart attack.

"Oh, this?" Harry pointed innocently at the wand in his hand, appearing every bit like a cute child who picked up the wrong item from the basket. "I was pretty disappointed when I only found a key, so, I tried to steal the shiny snake-headed walking stick in his hand but only the lower part came out. By that time, the man seemed to be recovering, so, I ran off."

The sound of Remus's palm hitting his face echoed throughout the alley.

* * *

Lucius presented his cane with a flourish and a mind-numbing thunderbolt hit him when he noticed that the lower part of the cane was missing. A shiver traveled down his spine as he shifted his worried glance to the teller sitting in the stall.

The toothy snarl-like grin on the goblin's face could cut through a sword.

* * *

 **Author's Note: As I've said, a simple interlude to fill the tiny gaps in the plot. So, did I miss any of the things that you readers feel that I should have covered? If you do, review your thoughts and if you do not, review your opinions. Thank You.**


	4. Behind the Scenes

**I am not going to describe every scene in detail like the incident at the Zoo or some other incidents that you might come across in the chapter. You might have already read these parts a thousand times in thousand other fan fictions and I believe that it's a better idea to provide you with a concise version of the incidents.**

 **Disclaimer: The path to greatness is littered with bloodied bodies of the naive. Ignorance is Bliss, but the life is more important than momentary pleasure.**

 **I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Snakes were interesting creatures, Harry decided after the escapade at the zoo and though they were not as fascinating as his cards, they were definitely high on his list of ridiculous things he had seen in his life. Considering that he was Harry freaking Potter, the list was substantially large but the fact that he could talk to the aforementioned species made it all the more unusual. Remus was disposed to agree after Harry explicated the exhilarating debacle that occurred at the Zoo and to the growing list of his peculiar traits that might or might not get him killed, Parselmouth was reluctantly added.

* * *

The Boy Who Lived/ Kleptomaniac/ Parselmouth was currently perched on top of a tree, surveying for any sight of a barn owl but considering that it was seven o' clock in the morning, one might find it weird that he was searching for owls. A speck of brown was visible under pale blue of the cloudless sky and after lamenting over the backwardness of the wizarding world, Harry jumped down to the ground.

The owl landed on his outstretched hand and stared at him with those beady black eyes for a few moments. Harry stared back, inwardly wondering why on earth he was staring back at an owl of all things on this pleasant morning and it seemed that the Owl was fed up with this charming presence, so, it dropped the letter clutched in its claws on the ground.

Unsure of what to do, Harry gently patted the owl on the head in a show of gratitude, before retrieving his Hogwarts letter but the owl remained perched atop his shoulder. After brainstorming for a precious few seconds, it struck his mind that in his excitement, he forgot to feed the owl and apparently owls had insatiable hunger but considering that it flew all the way from Scotland to Privet Drive, had it deserving of a buffet. After bestowing it with a few strips of bacon, Harry tied another letter to its talons and waited on the porch until the owl was out of sight.

The letter that Harry tied to the owl's talons was addressed to the deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts as Remus advised that it would prudent to request the help of a Hogwarts professor instead on running into Diagon Alley on their own. To be honest, they had no qualms with doing shopping on their own but the problem was that the key to Harry's Gringotts vault was secured with the Headmaster and what the Headmaster of a school was doing with _his key_ was anybody's guess.

Skipping his gaze to the Hogwarts letter in his hands, Harry gave it a glance before concluding that nothing in here was new as Remus had already informed him about all the things one might need at Hogwarts. Having a decent guardian did have its perks.

* * *

It took them a day to send the reply and the said reply arrived in the form of a diminutive professor, who was too cheery for his own good. When Harry opened the door, he was expecting a strict woman donned in green-trimmed robes and pointed hat but it came as quite a surprise when Harry had to tilt his head down to meet the eyes of the said professor.

But no could argue that Professor Flitwick's unlimited supply of exuberance wasn't contagious.

Well, the Dursleys might not find him that...appealing but it had been long since that Harry had stopped caring about the feelings of his relatives. So it was with a half-lidded expression that Harry watched as his uncle turned beet red at the sight of the strange professor.

"What is that….that creature, you freak!" Vernon yelled as he pointed a trembling finger at Professor Flitwick.

"Now that's very rude", Flitwick tutted in a squeaky voice, as though he was reprimanding an unruly child. "Are these people your relatives, Mr. Potter?"

Hearing the professor speak or...um, squeak, Vernon lost all of his wits and with an enraged shout he dashed towards Harry with his fist raised. Harry must have witnessed this sight a hundred times in his life and with a bored sigh, he darted sideways to avoid the hasty punch. Professor Flitwick brandished his wand in concern but Harry indicated for the Professor to wait for a moment, making the Professor stare at him with a frown on his face. After all, it was about time that the Dursleys comprehended that he was not the same boy he was a year ago.

"See? This is what I have to deal with. Everyday", Harry gestured at his bull faced uncle as he dug his hand into his pocket. With a flourish of his hand, he produced a card and swiped it in front of his uncle before tapping it on the bulging forehead. Like a potato sack, his uncle collapsed on the ground and at his aunt's shrill shriek from the kitchen, he flicked his card in her direction. With barely a sound, the card embedded itself into the wall, just beside her face. "That's enough out of you people. I will not miss the next time", Harry warned, his voice carrying over to his quivering aunt in a whisper.

The entire event lasted five seconds.

He expected the Professor to be staring at him with wide eyes and a wand pointed at his face but instead, the professor was bouncing on his little feet with a mile-wide grin on his face. "Truly astonishing, Mr. Potter", Flitwick whispered with unrestrained awe on his face. "Did you just perform a _Stupefy_ and a _Diffindo_ without the help of a wand or wand motions or even incantations?"

"Will you believe me if I say no?" Harry sauntered over to his aunt to pluck the card out of the wall and at the proximity, his aunt crawled back in fear. "But I expected that you will admonish me for attacking my relatives."

"After witnessing the actions of your uncle?" Flitwick raised one delicate eyebrow. "I merely consider it as self-defense, Mr. Potter. After all, I was a dueling champion once and I can recognize true skill when I see it, no matter the circumstances or consequences. But I do get the feeling that this riveting demonstration was a deliberate action on your part."

"They were asking for it", Harry shrugged as he opened the door for the professor to step out of this pathetic excuse of a home. "But since I would have to reveal my tricks at one point or the other, I was hoping to get it over as quickly as I can. And you seemed to be trustworthy enough that I did not hesitate to ponder over the ramifications."

"You truly are your mother's son", Flitwick remarked in a fairly somber tone and Harry felt grateful that he had already heard everything about his parents from Remus. Otherwise, it would have been one awkward journey with Harry not even knowing about his own heritage or his exploits as a child and the cheery professor would have had to spend another hour on sob stories that would have spoiled the entire mood of the journey.

"Really?" Harry wondered as he trailed beside the Professor. "Can you tell me about her, professor? As you can see, my sources of information are rather unreliable"

If it was possible, the smile on Prof Flitwick's face grew even wider and with a vehement nod, the Professor told a gripping tale of a fiery red-headed woman, who was one of the brightest witches he had ever seen in his life and Harry listened, like a dying man starving for a story.

* * *

Harry hated apparition with a passion. It was not as though he reached that conclusion spontaneously or it was the secret of the universe that Harry was relentlessly searching for eleven years or it was an epiphany that was about to change Harry Potter's life. But in his world, where everything was not as it seemed and nothing was prevalent, this was something that Harry was certain would remain constant for life. Yes, Harry Potter hated apparition with a passion and it was obvious that Prof Flitwick, who had just vanished the inner contents of his stomach, understood that fact.

He could have teleported to Diagon Alley but though Harry truly trusted the diminutive professor, he was not about to write all the secrets of his life in a parchment and give it to the half-goblin. After all, an ace up his sleeve was one of the few philosophies he followed in his life and what was life, if you did not live by your own philosophies? Thief's Honor.

If Harry had ever doubted the extent of his popularity, Leaky Cauldron flung all his uncertainties into the sky before incinerating them with an atom bomb. Engulfed by a dozen sweating bodies, with a few old hags and sots included, Harry thought for one frightening moment that life was precious and he should have lived it better. That was until he remembered who he was, the resident master of misdirection, and with a few well-placed jabs, he left the group to squabble over empty space. Never had he been so proud of his skills and judging the look of reverence on Prof. Flitwick's face, even the prof was impressed.

* * *

Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there.

"You should be mad to steal from Gringotts", Flitwick chuckled noisily and considering that it was his brethren that the prof was talking about, Harry was inclined to agree. But his fingers that were safely deposited in his pocket twitched in anticipation at the face of a challenge and he was certain that if Remus ever got a hint of what Harry was thinking at the moment, Harry would be six feet under the ground before he could even try to apologize.

As he read the words engraved on the silver door, the dying embers in his heart flared up due to the searing winds of thrill and blazed into a raging inferno. A mischievous glint lighted up his emerald green irises and he suppressed the maniacal grin that threatened to escape its dark confines. His fingers clenched around his joker card in an unusual display of anxiety and no one but him sensed the tremor of reassurance that reverberated from his card. From his own magic.

He trailed behind Prof Flitwick, inwardly apologizing to the prof for the slight chance that his plan might sabotage the reputation of the down to earth man but if Harry had his way, no one would be affected by his reckless actions, including him. The vicious expression of the Goblin at the stall softened infinitesimally as he stared at the prof and after they exchanged greetings in some language about which Harry had no clue, Prof Flitwick dug out a small golden key that did not seem any different from

the key he had stolen the other day.

The cart ride through the maze of dark and damp tunnels was invigorating and for a terrifying moment, Harry thought that he saw a dragon but before he could confirm his suspicions, the cart hurried past the passageway. Harry's eyes watered as the chilly air of the cave rushed past him and with an exhilarated whoop, he threw his hands up in the air to enjoy the breathtaking ride, disregarding his nervousness in favor of the thrill.

The goblin and half-goblin glanced at him with amused smiles on their faces and as though his enthusiasm had powered the cart, it began to move even faster. To his immense disappointment, they came to an abrupt halt after a few moments and Griphook, the goblin who accompanied them, unlocked the door to his vault with the handed over key and it opened with a series of resounding clicks and screeches.

Staring at the amount of wealth cluttered on the floor, Harry's mind shut in shock, with the only thought that was running through his mind being, 'I am filthy rich!'. If he hadn't been thieving for the thrill it brought him, Harry would have renounced his habit of stealing. But even in the face of the gold that brightened the entire room, Harry didn't ignore the plan that occupied his mind for the past ten minutes. After piling the galleons into a bag, provided by the goblin for a price of one galleon, they returned to the cart but this time, Harry prepared himself to put his plan into action instead of trying to enjoy the totally awesome ride.

Hypothesis: If all that was required for a vault to open was a key then Harry already possessed the key to another vault. Remus confiscated the key from Harry the moment he caught sight of it but it was not at all hard to steal it back from an unsuspecting man like Remus. After all, he was not going to relinquish the first object he stole in the wizarding world just because it belonged to some blond haired Pureblood ponce. Sequestering the wand was fair game but the key? Fat chance.

So, since Remus had relentless pounded the principles of apparition into his mind and the fact that his teleportation was far different from what the wizarding world had ever witnessed, Harry was certain that the Goblins had no protections in place against his teleportation. So, if he could only position a card in here somewhere, he could teleport in and out as many times as he desired.

Hoping that his plan was solid, he clenched the seven of spades card tightly between his fingers and after making sure that his two companions were lost in their conversation, he flung it at a nearby wall of the cave while the cart was still in motion. The last thing he saw before the cart twisted into the next passageway was his card embedding itself into the damp stone wall.

The confidence he had on his foolproof plan dissipated like the morning fog when he witnessed the door of the next vault they visited: Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no key hole. Instead of using a key, the goblin raked a clawed finger on the groove, bisecting the metal contraption, and the metallic locks grated against each other before collapsing into each other. A huge entryway replaced the metallic door and instead of a treasure being in there as he had anticipated, there was a small package that could be a rock for all he knew.

Prof Flitwick secured the package in his robe pocket before they darted off without a word. In fact, the only answer he got at his incessant nagging was: school business. Damn the goblins and their love for theatrics. Now he desired to steal the package too but he had already crossed the boundary once with his voluntary actions and he did not wish to anchor himself to the other side; no matter how appealing the little package was.

* * *

Shopping was uneventful, as he had expected but as things were bound to get interesting when he was concerned, the process of buying a wand raised some serious questions as the Old man Ollivander proved to be too curious and knowledgeable for his own good.

After trying a million wands and other wands that could have appeared from another country for all Harry cared, Ollivander finally presented him with a Holly and phoenix wand, with a creepy smile on his pale visage. If the old man said 'curious' one more time, Harry would thrust his deck of cards into that annoying mouth, consequences be damned. If the old man did not mind the fact the half of his shop was in ruins while the other half was engulfed in fire, then Harry doubted that he would care if a pack of muggle cards suddenly found their way into his mouth. Ah, pleasant thoughts.

Harry waved the wand with an excitement that betrayed the fact that he was in there for an hour and Prof Flitwick abandoned him in favor of animals – he was truly scared to think of what Prof Flitwick was doing in a pet shop of all places. To his inexplicable relief, the tip of the wand fired a shower of sparks into the air and Harry's wide grin met the unprecedented frown on Ollivander's place.

The old man scrutinized him with those pale translucent eyes and a shudder wracked Harry's body at the harrowing stare he was subjected to. Harry dearly wished that Flitwick would appear from behind the door – with his height, the man could literally hide _anywhere –_ and save him from his ordeal but his prayers were left unanswered as the diminutive prof was nowhere in sight. The old man strode forward and Harry simultaneously inched backward until his back hit the wooden wall. His emerald green eyes tracked the man's hand as it slowly traversed southward and with his eyes widened in horror as all the images that shouldn't cross his mind were rushing in at the speed of sound.

The intrusive hand clutched the most important private object in Harry's possession and with a shout, he pushed the old man away. "Don't you dare touch my cards, you perverted old man."

"Ah. Pardon my discourtesy, Mr. Potter", Ollivander bowed slightly in a poor imitation of an apology. "I believe that I found the reason for no wand being suitable for your, considerably large, magical core."

At the old man's _polite_ request, Harry handed him the deck with great reluctance before glaring daggers at the man. With a look of wonder that wouldn't appear out of place on a one-year-old, Ollivander shuffled through the deck. "Oh, how many years had it been...truly fascinating, Mr. Potter. Truly fascinating. You presented me with something, for which wand makers all over the world would give an arm and an eye for. A perfect medium for magic. I believe that I had last witnessed such a priceless artifact in the hands of the famed Alchemist, Nicholas Flamel himself! Fascinating indeed."

"You lost me somewhere at 'medium for magic'", Harry massaged his temples to alleviate the frustration. "What's so fascinating about a pack of cards?"

"For a person who had just begun to witness the wonders of magic, these might seem like a normal but powerful set of objects, Mr. Potter. I do not blame you for your ignorance", Ollivander replied, still holding the deck closely to his chest in a way that made Harry distinctly uncomfortable. "But along with wonders, magic presents the wielders with its own share of difficulties. Every ability or power in this universe has a limit, Mr. Potter, that was the threshold at which the wielder will not develop or grow further and usually, the limit or the threshold is determined by three factors. Power/ skill of the individual. The intellect/ natural propensity of the individual and the most disheartening one of these three, the medium for magic, which is usually a wand or in some exclusive cases, the body of the individual as seen in wandless magic."

"While one can increase their power or intellect through various methods, usually rituals, one cannot alter their medium for magic. They usually flip back and forth from wand magic to wandless magic and a wand can only execute a powerful spell for so long before it shatters under the strain of the magic. While wandless magic is more resilient in nature, as it is your own body you are utilizing for the flow of magic, people may die when they use it carelessly as wandless magic is highly limited and can only be used for lower level spells. But what if one can shift from one medium to other or create a medium that is far more powerful than a simple wand?"

The answer to the rhetorical question was visible in front of his eyes in the form of his cards. There were 52 cards in the deck and two more jokers, so, in a way, he possessed 54 mediums? No wonder the old man was grinning like Christmas had come early. "An Alchemist who goes by the name of Nicholas Flamel created an ethereal object known as the sorcerer's stone and it the most powerful medium of magic ever created in the history of mankind. While the stone is an example of the latter case, your cards are the perfect example of multiple mediums of magic. And the mightiest advantage with using mediums other than wands is that since the flow itself differs from medium to medium, the results themselves differ. As I am sure you already know. The sorcerer's stone can produce the elixir of life itself and magic performed with it have no limits, Mr. Potter. Transcendence. The apt word of this phenomenon."

Harry could only nod dumbly. This entire concept was far beyond his comprehension and never did he expect that his simple playing cards were one of the most powerful artifacts in the entire wizarding history! He was merely a kid who desired to eat three meals a day and did that simple desperate wish create some of the most sought out objects in the wizarding world? Truly incomprehensible. "So does this mean that I have no need for a wand?"

"Don't be foolish, Mr. Potter. It will take years if not decades for you to master these objects without any proper instruction and until then you cannot rely on simple tricks, can you?" Ollivander berated as he returned the deck to Harry and ignoring the words of crazy wise man, he reverently held his cards in his hand before securing them in his pocket. "I have just the wand for you and it is really fortunate that I finally get the chance to test one of my greatest creations."

Ollivander disappeared into the back of the shop, leaving Harry to stare blankly at the dilapidated state of the store. To his comfort, the man reappeared within a few seconds but this time, he was carrying a large ornate box in his feeble arms. With pride emanating from his visage, the old man opened the seal around the box and in it was one of the most beautiful objects Harry had ever witnessed.

"A wand of a kind, entirely made out of a highly conductive Silver alloy and believe me, Mr. Potter, when I say that this is not a wand to use carelessly", Ollivander warned, through the pride in his tone betrayed his true feelings. "Only a person with significant skill at magic manipulation could wield this wand and if facts are to be believed, I am sure that you can wield this wand effortlessly."

With trembling hands, Harry grabbed the wand from its wooden home and at his touch, the icy coldness of the wand was replaced by a searing heat and with an exaggerated flourish, he waved the wand, with the intention to revert the shop to its natural state. After all, for the effort the old man put in for him, it did not seem right to leave the shop unattended. Reparo was a spell Remus frequently used and after watching it being executed a hundred times, the spell came almost naturally to Harry. With a sonic boom that rattled the contents of the store, all the objects, including the broken and deep fried, reverted back to their original places as though everything that happened during the past hour was merely a dream.

"Bravo, Mr. Potter", Ollivander clapped in apparent glee. "As I've predicted, magic manipulation comes naturally to you."

But Harry was wholly captivated by the metallic wand thrumming in his hands to heed the words of the delighted shopkeeper. Though his cards would always be the objects that were the dearest to him, Harry could not object to the fact that this wand came quite close to their level of preciousness. Irreplaceable. A deck of cards and a metallic wand.

"You are destined for great things, Mr. Potter. Do not sway from your path in blind search of power, for the most terrible things that we witness in this wretched world are not the actions of any greater evil but the foolishness of a mere individual", were the last words Harry heard before he ambled out of the shop. Ominous, in the truest sense of the word.

* * *

Prof Flitwick was waiting for him outside the store – holding a cage which was the home for an adorable snowy white owl – appearing every bit like a sugar high child but Harry was not the one to talk with the million-watt smile plastered on his face. At the sight of the silver wand in his hands, the professor began to bounce rapidly on his feet in excitement and the owl in the cage fluttered its wings to balance itself on the perch. Taking pity on the beautiful owl, Harry took the cage into his hands, freeing the owl from the confines of his beaming professor.

"A silver wand. Nothing could ever be normal with you, don't you think, Mr. Potter?"

"You took the words out of my mouth, Prof Flitwick but my wand aside, what were you doing with this owl?" Harry met the large amber eyes of the owl, wishing that he could buy an owl like this one. Who knew that owls could even be this adorable?

"Lily would be truly unhappy if I took out her son on his first shopping trip in the wizarding world and didn't even present him with a gift", Prof Flitwick replied and at that, Harry decided that Prof Flitwick's rating should be raised by a few points in his mind.

"This is the best gift I ever received", Harry responded as he clutched the cage tighter to his body. This day might even be the best day of his whole life.

* * *

That night, Harry paced restlessly in his new room – Threatening his relatives was an unarguably amusing experience – as he waited for the clock to hit 3:00 AM and as the clock chimed in response, Harry took a few deep breaths to calm his incipient anxiety.

The recently named Hedwig hooted in concern but Harry stroked her beak gently to reassure her that he would be fine, although there was a lot of uncertainty surrounding that statement and at her disbelieving stare, Harry threw his hands up in the air. If his newly gifted owl could detect his lie, then Remus might glean the incident with merely a look. That mere thought was enough to send a chill down his spine and snuff out his meager reserves of courage.

Running a hand through his messy hair, he held his Joker card on his palm before leveling his uneven breaths. This was not the time to doubt his decisions and with each passing moment, his chances might be decreasing drastically. Holding the card to his lips, he closed his eyes before disappearing from the room in a blink of an eye.

He landed on the railings that connected the passageways and to his relief, the card was still in the same place it previously was. With a flick of his fingers, he summoned the card to his hands before tossing it into the valley beside him. If what he remembered was correct, then as the lower you went, the more important the vaults were. More important meant more treasure. The card glided down the unbelievably dark valley and with moments, the bluish glow of his card vanished from his sight. He decided not to bring his new wand along with him as there were chances that he might lose it but the prominent reason was that he was certain that Goblins could easily detect wand magic. So this came down to the fact that his cards were his only chance at success.

Feeling confident after his first successful step, he dived into the valley in a clear imitation of his first teleportation before vanishing again out of thin air. His feet softly touched the hard stone of the valley and he opened his eyes to meet the spectacular sight of huge golden doors embedded into obsidian stone. There was a triangle engraved on the golden doors, with a circle engulfed by the said triangle and a final line perfectly bisected the triangle and the circle in the middle.

He dared to take the first step but paused his motion when he heard a mighty growl from behind him. His heart stuck in his throat as he felt a crippling presence and with his body frozen in fear, he twisted his head to meet the blood red eyes of a humongous dragon, which had its gigantic teeth barred in a clear sign of insurmountable danger.

* * *

 **Author's Note: If you expected this twist, then I, the author bows to your brilliant mind in respect.**

 **Feel free to review your opinions about this chapter and I will be waiting with unbearable anticipation for your indubitably amazing reviews. Critic or appreciative.**

 **Can you guess what will happen in the next chapter?**


	5. Death of a Heist

**Disclaimer: You cannot escape the ghosts of your past by gazing out into the deceivingly innocuous world and when you do believe in the serenity that surrounds you, it vanishes like the morning mist.**

* * *

The huge blood red eyes were unblinking as they followed his every movement and with each sniff, wisps of smoke emanated from its scaly nostrils. His body was as frozen as a metal pole in mid-winter, his heart thudding violently in his chest in a commendable effort to blast out of his rib cage and his each breath came out as low gasps. Distinctly, he could hear the noise of wheels rolling over the metal railings and he wondered for one moment whether surrendering to the goblins was a better alternative than fighting a dragon. Both alternatives might end up with him being as dead as the night but the crux of the matter was how gruesome was each death going to be. It was no wonder that everything rushed through his mind in a blink of an eye, for there was no better way to sharpen your thoughts than facing a freaking dragon.

His fingers twitched towards his cards surreptitiously but that one threatening move was enough of a signal for the dragon to open its gigantic mouth. Mulling over what he knew about dragons in general, he was certain that the oppressive beast was just a moment away from roasting him to hell.

Finding himself a nice and sturdy rock, Harry flicked his card over to the makeshift shield and just a second after he vanished, a torrent of fire bathed the place he was previously at. Without wasting a precious moment, he ducked behind the rock and thought of the options he had at hand. The list was frighteningly low.

The most obvious and the safest thing he could do would be to teleport over to his room in Privet Drive and forget about this entire terrifying encounter but the problem was that he could not sense the link between his mind and the card. Not a moment after he deduced this fact, realization hit him like a bus to the face, for he was surrounded by a valley carved out of Obsidian stone and any wizard who had any regard for his pathetic life would possess the basic knowledge that Obsidian or molten volcanic rock was an inhibitor of magic and no external magic could enter the confines of the stone. Similarly, no magic from the inside could diffuse over to the outside. This realization was attached to the fact that he was apparently fucked beyond redemption.

So, he couldn't escape the dragon until he found a way to abscond out of this despicable valley and to escape the valley he would need to find a way to evade the dragon. God, he hated paradoxes or... conundrums that foiled his foolproof plans or... dragons that were out for his life.

Apparently, the dragon was not impressed by his tactic of finding himself a sanctuary and it displayed its displeasure with another onslaught of fire that could evidently melt stones. Teleporting over to another stone, Harry pondered over his choices once again and his only strategy that might not result in his death was to teleport over to the top of the valley and then teleport again to the Dursley's home. But the depressing fact was that the Valley was considerably deep and for him to escape this dark pit, he would have to execute the teleportation in steps, for no matter how invincible his powers might make him be, his physical strength was limited and when your own body didn't agree with your tactics, then your magic surely wouldn't.

But even after teleporting over to a significant distance, the Dragon would obviously follow him, for its shackles were appallingly long and it would not miss a chance at devouring the first human it had for dinner in centuries, for it was obvious that no human in their right mind would steal from a dragon-guarded vault. Once he did escape from this bank, he would have to improve his abysmal common sense to life-saving levels.

The dragon's sleek black spiked tail interrupted his musings and with an exasperated sigh, Harry teleported to the top of another rock, deciding that this exhausting game of cat and mouse would only be entertaining for so long before he found himself in the jaws of the beast. Removing the joker card from the deck, he placed it in his pocket and held 26 cards in each hand. The dragon ceased its ruthless assault to stare at him curiously with those spine-chilling eyes, smoke gliding into the air with its each breath while its long claws raked the hard stone ground. Surveying the destruction around him, Harry puzzled about how he had even managed to survive this long when his opponent was that...ferocious. His confidence in his chances of survival rose, albeit minutely, but when the odds were entirely not in your favor, even such insubstantial moments of faith were a rarity that must be cherished.

"I don't know whether you can understand me or not but you should be glad that you will be the first one to ever witness this technique", Harry informed as he flicked the cards he had in his hands to 52 different directions and the Dragon tilted its head inquisitively at this crafty maneuver but though Harry did have the enthusiasm to explain his whole technique to the dragon, he was certain that he wouldn't live to enjoy the experience any further.

They stared at each other in the eye and the dragon opened its gigantic maw once again, the fire rolling inside its mouth and the moment it blasted the flames in his direction, Harry teleported. It was an exhilarating experience, for he could discern the slightest alterations in the atmosphere at this speed. The fire drifting through the air, the air hissing as it caressed the blazing hot flames, the rocks parting as they melted to give way for the fire to traverse, the molten gray vapors rising into the air and the dragon roaring in rage as it missed its target once again…

He appeared at the position of the next card but the dragon was awaiting his arrival, for the tail came whipping up to meet him and with barely a glance at the oncoming attack, he teleported again. He had fifty two positions to teleport over to and there was no hurry to accomplish it all at once. He could wait for the dragon to chase after him until it was exhausted beyond recovery and then, he would initiate the next step of the plan. Not a moment had passed since he had finished that thought and the jaws of the dragon snapped an inch away from his position and in an instant, Harry vanished again.

He had lost count of how many times he had teleported. Four times, twenty-three times, forty-nine times, one hundred and seven…the count could have reached a thousand for all he knew, for he was reveling in this feeling of utter invincibility. He could feel his magic sizzling in the air, searing the hairs on his skin, the air rushing past him to fill the void he inevitably left as he disappeared and with each further teleportation, the air cackled wildly as it saturated with his magic. It was a phenomenal display, like the stupendous strike of a lightning or torrential downpour of rain or the mighty winds in a storm.

 _No one could even touch him when he was using this technique, for the moment they made the first step,_ _he would be one step, three steps...seven steps ahead of them and just when they think that they could wrap their constricting chains around him, that's when he'll be right behind them. And in no time, they will be exactly where he desired them to be. So come close, get all over him, because the closer they think they were, the less they actually see._

But one glaring weakness of this technique was that it consumed a considerable amount of his magic and he couldn't drag on this unbeatable technique for any longer than a few minutes. It would be apparent to anybody who was watching the technique that as the time progressed, his speed declined gradually and within a few minutes, the teleportation was no different from running faster than an average human. At least, the dragon seemed as worn out as he did, for it no longer breathed fire and its movements slowed drastically but since the dragon was considerably huge, it could still easily kill Harry with a mere flick of its tail if it tried.

Had anybody witnessed the state of their surroundings, they would have wondered whether a volcanic eruption had taken place. Molten rock was flowing down the cracks between the stones while gray vapor emanated from the surface of the ground and the air was scorching with the heat of the flames. Chunks of rocks were littered all over the place while craters decorated the previously unscathed surface.

Sweat was dripping down his weary body, with his damp hair sticking to his forehead and his chest was heaving in an effort to let him breathe while his heart rapidly pounded against his ribcage. His half-lidded eyes stared at the dragon speculatively, weighing their chances once again and to demoralize him further, the odds were still in favor of the dragon. As the dragon inched forward threateningly, Harry teleported again to the card that was situated in front of the ornate golden door but what he did not expect was to find the spiked tail already heading his way. He made an appreciable effort to teleport again but his exhaustion took its toll on him and as a result, he slammed onto the metal door as the tail brutally struck him.

His left hand had a bone protruding out near the elbow and blood dripped down from the wound, painting the golden door in a shade of bright crimson. Just as the dragon opened its mouth again, Harry heard a sharp click echo through the valley and before he could even guess what the hell had happened, the giant doors behind him split open in the middle and he tumbled into the vault.

* * *

The doors closed after him, confining him to the chamber and far away from the dangers of a fire-breathing dragon. After steadying himself, with one hand holding the injured arm, Harry jumped back to his feet and glanced around with a frown visible on his face. To his evident disappointment, the enormous vault was nearly empty, with the treasure amounting to no more than what he possessed in his vault. For a vault this big, it seemed that the owners were fairly poor, for the vault was easily a twenty times larger than his own and the ceiling was considerably high.

He ambled forward, hoping that he could find a way to get out of what seemed to be a prison for him, and that was when he noticed that, protruding out of the ground, nearly at the center, was a stand made out of marble and on top of the marble, encased in glass was a shimmering cloak, with a letter placed upon it. He scrutinized the transparent glass case as he rounded the marble platform and so as to procure a feel of the glass, he placed his bloodied hand on the case.

The moment the blood on his hand touched the glass case, it parted open like a chamber and Harry floundered back in surprise, his eyes widening as they flickered to the silver cloak. He slowly marched towards the cloak, eyes glancing to the side to confirm that there was no dragon waiting to pounce upon him and as he finally reached the stand, he noticed that on the envelope, written in neat calligraphy, was the name of some Lord of House Potter. He was about to disregard the letter and shift his focus to the cloak when the words registered in his mind. _House Potter?_

With his brows scrunched up in thought, he grabbed the envelope and on the inside was a single parchment.

 _This cloak is a family heirloom, passed down for generations to the Potter heir but knowing that the Dark Lord Voldemort himself is in a mad rush to procure the cloak, for reasons I have no knowledge of, I cannot possibly place the burden upon my infant son. So, as the Lord of the House Potter, I request the Goblins to return the cloak to the rightful place that it belongs: The Peverell Vault. When the time comes and if the peace prevails, I will return to claim the ownership and until then, it must be secured with the utmost protection._

 _James Potter, Descendent of the Peverells and Lord Potter of the Noble and Ancient House Potter._

The letter did not reveal much, other than the fact that Voldemort was after a lot of things that concerned him and that he was a descendent of the Peverells. He had no idea who the Peverells were but considering the protection that was ensured for an empty vault – A dragon! - they must have been a considerably powerful and influential family.

Did he actually come all the way to steal what had rightfully belonged to him? This must be the most pointless heist in the history of mankind. Well, at least, now he had a letter written by his own father and a cloak that he might or might not have inherited after a few years, for it entirely depended upon the fact whether the goblins were considerable enough to remind him that he had an heirloom waiting for him in an underground vault guarded by a dragon. Knowing them, they probably wouldn't care. After all, no one ever informed him that he was filthy rich when he was starving in a cupboard.

He reverently placed the letter in his pocket and shifted his attention to the cloak lying innocently on the platform. Gently, he grabbed the cloak into his hands and was not surprised when he noticed that it was almost weightless. It was glimmering with an ethereal glow, as though proclaiming soundlessly to the world that it was not to be taken lightly and with a flourish, he donned the cloak around his scrawny body, taking extra care to avoid his broken arm.

So, one could not blame him when he recoiled in shock after perceiving that his entire body turned invisible except the broken arm that was out of reach of the cloak. The mischievous grin that blossomed on his face could have sent chills down the spines of even the greatest pranksters.

With new found faith in his chances of survival, he sauntered over to the doors and swiped his blood coated finger on the groove that separated the two halves. As the blood seeped into the crack, another click resonated through the metal and with a resounding screech, the door split open.

* * *

The moment he set foot outside, he summoned all of his cards to his uninjured hand before placing them in his pocket. The dragon blinked puzzlingly at the spot the cards vanished off to and Harry had to suppress a maniacal chuckle that threatened to escape his throat. A moment later, another card zoomed through the same spot to lodge itself into the obsidian stone and before the dragon could discern what was happening, Harry teleported with the cloak. Even after the first teleportation, he was still within reach of the dragon and without wasting a second, he fired another card at the hill and teleported further away until he was no longer in danger of getting roasted or shredded to pieces.

The relieved sigh that escaped his mouth spoke volumes about his delight at his apparent accomplishment.

The moment his feet touched the railings, Harry turned around the corner to teleport over to the safety of his room in Privet Drive but luck had it that he would not get the happy ending he deserved so soon and as such, a man, cloaked from head to toe in a black robe collided into him and as the bone that protruded out of his skin relocated a little, Harry lost the grip he had on his invisibility cloak due to the sudden nerve-wracking pain that hit him.

The invisibility cloak softly landed on the metal railings and at the sight of the cloak, the hooded man gasped before firing a red colored spell at Harry. Knowing that if this continued, he would collapse out of exhaustion or blood loss, Harry resolved to finish this foolish fight as fast as he could.

Flicking his joker card at the man, Harry ran forward as though making an attempt to punch the man in his stomach and as the card reached the man's face, he tilted his head to avoid a paper cut and the moment, the card soared past the man's face, Harry disappeared out of thin air before reappearing behind the man.

Before the man could perceive that he was unbelievably fucked, Harry flicked another card to the back of the man's head and this time, the card reached its destination accurately and just as it made contact with the black hood, it blasted.

The man screamed in agony as he held the back of his head, as though his face was on the opposite side, and not waiting to see whether the man was sufficiently injured or not, Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak from the wooden track before teleporting to his room.

He landed on the floor with a painful thud but the wide grin on his face belied the aching in his arm and the exhaustion that took hold of his body. Hedwig hooted worriedly at the state of his body but he waved off her concerns with the other arm. The broken bone wouldn't take long to heal and if he could fool Remus that it was a simple accident while experimenting, he might even get healed in an hour and escape Scot-free from this whole frustrating ordeal.

He placed the cloak in his school trunk, ideas already forming in his mind regarding how he could exploit this new perk of perfect invisibility to his needs and with a contented smile plastered onto his face, he collapsed down on the bed.

* * *

Remus stared blankly at him as Harry walked over to the man with his left arm cradled to his chest and with a look as innocent as he could possibly manage, Harry stared back but all that look achieved was to increase the skepticism of the suspicious man. With a sigh that bespoke of his weariness for him, Harry weaved a tale about a black cat, old hag, and a botched teleportation, making sure to add his own mix of excitement and exhaustion into the story and after an hour of convincing that everything was entirely fine with him, Remus began his healing treatment.

After having a stomach full of lunch, Remus lounged on the sofa in his single room flat while Harry sat by the desk, dutifully reading Hogwarts, a History. Apparently, he would have to finish at least half of the first year portion of all the subjects before Remus would even let him board the train. When inquired about his insistence, Remus's only answer was that he couldn't knowingly send James and Lily's son to Hogwarts, only for Harry to appear as anything less than a prodigy. Harry complained for a day about overbearing caretakers but after a day, it was obvious that his whining had no effect whatsoever on the cold-hearted Remus Lupin.

" _Some_ _unnamed individual_ _broke into Gringotts to steal from the Peverell vault but was_ _promptly_ _apprehended_ _by the guards stationed at Gringotts. It is notable that this thievery took place the same day Harry Potter entered the wizarding world. Could this be an act of terrorism by the old supporters of You-know-who as a sign of aggression towards the Boy-who-lived? Only time will tell."_

Remus waited for the news to sink in as he narrated it to the Boy-who-lived sitting across him and the said boy's only reaction was a shrug and a passing remark of, "One must be mad to steal from Gringotts."

Remus looked at him oddly, while simultaneously cocking an eyebrow and Harry threw his hands up in the air before huffing with indignation. "Professor Flitwick said that to me and believe me, even I am not that reckless to steal from Gringotts."

"No, I am not doubting your intentions or actions. It's just inconceivable to hear a comment against stealing coming from you", Remus ruffled his hair as he stood beside him. "And what is this that I hear about Professor Flitwick? Am I being replaced as your favorite person?"

"Don't be jealous, Moony", Harry placated as he shifted his gaze from the inexplicably boring book to the man beside him. "You were never even in the contention, to begin with."

"Say it again, brat", Remus chuckled as he shook the green eyed boy by his head. Harry retaliated with a headbutt to the stomach before storming out of the room, followed by a cackling Remus, who had the Hogwarts, A history book clutched in his hand. "No more practicing magic if you don't finish by midnight."

"Now, that's just cruel".

* * *

Harry sat on his trunk, with his beloved owl perched on his shoulder, as he watched the people pass by him at the Kings Cross station. A few people stared at him curiously before ignoring him in favor of their own business while most of the people paid no mind to the kid sitting lonely on a trunk with a freaking white colored owl perched on his shoulder at nearly ten fifty in the morning. 'This world is truly wrecked beyond repair', Harry thought as he shook his head morosely.

A family of redheads passed by him with their mother shouting to anyone who could hear that they were late to the train and must reach the platform 9 before the train departed without them. Harry deadpanned as the woman dawdled near the dividing barrier between platform nine and ten, when she was clearly hollering a moment ago that they were going to be late.

Well, what was he saying again? Ah, yes. The world was truly wrecked beyond repair.

Remus left him at the station, informing him about how to reach the platform 9 before leaving and the reason was that there were some old faces in here whom he did not want to meet. Apparently, all the students in Remus's generation were parents now and their kids would be going to Hogwarts, so, Harry couldn't hold it over the pleasant man for being reluctant to enter the platform.

After the family left, Harry dashed through the barrier and appeared on the other side, with his trunk and owl in tow. A scarlet steam engine greeted him, along with a platform crowded with overbearing parents and overexcited students. This was why he avoided boarding the train for so long, since the clamor immensely annoyed him and he was in no hurry to enjoy the experience of riding in a train.

But one thing that he couldn't argue was that he was just as excited as any of the students here and the jitters he was feeling since morning only increased as he gaped at the Hogwarts express. He strolled forward with his trunk but abruptly halted in his tracks when he noticed a blond long haired man conversing with a boy, who clearly appeared to be the man's son. Dammit, out of all the people on the platform, should he stumble upon the only man from whom he stole a vault key and _a wand?_

Harry hastily backed away, only to slam into someone. "I am so sorry. I was not looking", he apologized as he turned around to notice a red haired girl accompanied by a strict looking gray haired woman.

"Oh, it's fine", the red-haired girl smiled pleasantly at him and Harry had no choice but to smile back awkwardly. "Are you a first year too?"

"Um, Yes", Harry nodded as he swiftly glanced around to check whether the blond haired man was still present. Sadly, he was.

"Are you nervous?" the girl inquired as she noticed his fidgeting and Harry blinked owlishly at her as he registered her question.

"Just a little. I came here alone, so, um, I am a bit scared, you know, with so many people in here", Harry explained hurriedly as the gray-haired woman shifted her gaze to him.

"Don't be worried", the red-haired girl gestured towards her companion as she spoke. "My aunt here is the head Auror. You are safe with her here."

"Oh. That's good", Harry nodded to himself before her words lodged firmly in his mind. Weren't Aurors the magical police in the Wizarding world? "She is?" he squeaked in fright as he floundered back.

"What happened?" the girl tilted her head in confusion while her aunt narrowed her eyes at him. How on earth did he find himself in such a precarious situation? Was this what they meant by the adage, 'stuck between a rock and a hard place'.

"Nothing. I am just surprised", Harry chuckled hesitantly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Normally, women are not seen in such major positions in the world, right? And considering that the wizarding world is even more backward than the muggle one, it's even more astonishing. A truly amazing accomplishment, madam."

'Dear god, have mercy upon my poor miscreant soul', Harry lamented and just as he finished that thought, Remus emerged into the platform with his own trunk in hand and blatantly ignoring the two people standing before him, Harry rushed over to the smiling werewolf.

"Remus! What are you doing here?"

Remus ran a hand through his hair apprehensively. "Ah, I knew that keeping it a secret was a bad idea."

"What secret?" Harry raised his eyebrows as Remus appeared more flustered than Harry had ever seen him.

"You know the failed robbery that happened in Gringotts, right?" Harry nodded in reply before gesturing for Remus to continue. "It's all hush-hush at the moment but apparently the person who was captured at Gringotts was the to-be defense professor at Hogwarts and since Hogwarts had no replacement in place, the Headmaster had to contact one of his old students."

"You are going to be the Defense Professor!" Harry shouted so loud in surprise that all the people on the platform ceased their conversations to stare their way.

"Harry, this might be the best time to use your misdirection."

* * *

 **Somewhere on a faraway island, Azkaban.**

Sirius had an unbearable urge to smash his head onto the prison walls as his cousin Bellatrix ranted and cackled as she showered heaps of praise upon her beloved Lord Voldemort. 'God, how did he even find himself in such a depressing place?'

Oh, yes. The despicable rat. What he did on that fateful day must be the stupidest thing any person on this wretched planet could ever do. He left a toddler in the hands of a naive _half giant_ to chase after a deplorable rat in a frenzy of rage to exact revenge for the death of his best friends. How did his body even go along with this stupid plan generated by his idiotic mind?

Bellatrix slammed her shackles to the metal bars of her prison, wreaking chaos as she usually did and the two Aurors who occasionally guarded this place instead of the dementors – shudder – sighed wearily as they massaged their temples.

Before an oncoming headache could him kill him before this desolate prison ever did, Sirius shouted. "Are my tired eyes deceiving me? Lord Voldemort, you have finally answered my prayers!"

"Where is my lord? My Lord, it's me, your loyal servant!" Bellatrix bellowed as she glanced around madly until she heard the howls of laughter from her adjacent prison. "You are going to die at my hands some day, Black."

Sirius ignored her with practiced ease and slumped down on his grimy prison mat. This was his only source of entertainment for years and take it from him that a joke, no matter how funny, would surely get old after ten years, even in a gloomy prison. He was about to shut his eyes to catch a nap but a conversation made his ears twitch in curiosity.

"The guy mus' be bat shit insane ta steal from Gringotts. And ya heard this? It happened the same day that Potter boy went ta Gringotts", One of the Aurors informed the other as they strolled past his cell with a Daily Prophet and Sirius blindly staggered over to the cell bars to shout at them.

"What did you say?"

"Some one stole from Gringotts?"

"Not that one, you moron. The other part?"

"Potter entered the wizarding world?"

Harry Potter? His godson whom he abandoned? The only child of his two — dead — best friends?

"Can you hand me the paper?" Sirius pleaded with all the faked innocence he could manage. "Please?" he added for extra measure.

The Auror glanced at his partner skeptically before shrugging and threw the paper through the gap between the bars. "Take this as thanks for shutting that crazy bitch up."

Sirius paid no heed to the Auror as his gaze landed on the picture on the first page of Daily Prophet. A scrawny eleven-year-old boy was grinning mischievously at the person before him, unaware that someone was snapping a photo of him, while a group of people were squabbling behind him. 'This must have been captured at Leaky Cauldron', Sirius thought offhandedly.

There was a distinct and painful ache in his chest as he stared at that grin, for it was the same grin that lighted James's face after they successfully accomplished a prank and a mile wide grin, that could not be considered sane in any sense of the word, lighted Sirius's face for the first time in ten years. "Harry Potter appeared in the Wizarding world after ten years? Then it's about time that even I did."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Now I don't even have the heart to ask the usual question, for one night I had one plot in mind and the next morning, I had an entirely different one.**

 **So, what do you think? One Word: Review.**


	6. End of a Circle

**Quirrel died because Voldemort had forcibly severed the connection between him and Quirrel to avoid capture and as a result, Quirrel died. Not because of Harry.**

 **Disclaimer: Twice the flutter of your eyelashes is all that is needed for everything to flip around. So, close your eyes for a second and then...relish in the chaos.**

 **I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

The Goblin King Ragnok yelled in fury at the cowering goblin teller before him, with his sharp fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm and with a toothy snarl evident on his scary visage. Never in the history of Gringotts did they ever witness such uproar in its gloomy depths and even more aggravating than the disorder was the fact that they had no clue about who caused the chaos.

All they found was the dead body of the Hogwarts Professor Quirrel, with the back of his head burnt beyond recognition and eyes frighteningly blank. The body was found on the railings that led to the underground Peverell Vault and after surveying the damage in the vicinity of the Vault, Ragnok came to the conclusion that this man must have tried to rob the vault but either failed or was successful before someone killed him for the artifact that was in his possession.

But the blood coating the golden doors did not match with that of the dead body and after entering the vault with their hearts stuck in their throats, the goblins, to their wretched luck, found out that the Invisibility Cloak that James Potter entrusted to Gringotts for protection was missing. It came as no surprise to the Goblin nation when they found three decapitated goblin heads hanging by the entrance of the vault, for if there was one thing that the Goblin King never pardoned, then it's the failure of duty.

There was no doubt who was behind this heist, for it was clearly written in Lord Potter's letter that the Dark Lord was after the Cloak and the dark magic that the back of the Professor's head emanated was indistinguishable from the Dark Lord's. The Goblin nation had never believed the foolish propaganda of the wizarding folk and this time it was no different, for Ragnok was certain from the beginning that the Dark was not dead. Merely vanquished and waiting in the shadows for the perfect opportunity.

But he had expected that they would have at least another five years of time at their disposal to make preparations for the war that was inevitable but it seemed that fate had determined that the wheels of time must be set into motion. That fact that everything ensued after the moment the Potter heir set his foot into the wizarding world was no less unsettling and Ragnok was certain that there was more to the boy that what appeared to the untrained eye.

He leaned back into his throne, his fingers steepled as he pondered over what had happened in just a single day and what could surely happen as the time progressed further into the dark abyss that was the future. Everything was a jumbled mess at the moment, with no clues or facts, but if only he could dig a little deeper, regarding how the Dark Lord survived that day, then...there would be chaos.

Though the businessman in him protested against the random occurrences, the aged warrior concealed behind his professional persona was cackling with anticipation; for the storm that was sure to hit the wizarding world.

And there was no doubt who would be at the center of that storm.

* * *

Harry Potter sat idly in his train compartment, his legs swinging as he hummed along to the tune of his beautiful surroundings, while the occupants stared at him with concealed amusement. Well, not everyone, for Remus was sleeping by the window as it was the full moon yesterday and the day after the full moon was immensely exhausting for any werewolf. Not wanting to disturb his caretaker, Harry decided to remain silent until anyone other than him resolved to break the pleasant atmosphere, for while he appeared nonchalant on the outside, Harry was itching to roam around the train and do what he usually did: Disrupt the serenity.

Sadly, his companions seemed all too reserved or either uncaring about the uncomfortable silence and just as Harry was about to sigh in exasperation, the red-haired girl spoke. Did he mention that it was only a minute since the train had departed? Probably not.

"So, I am Susan Bones, the niece of Amelia Bones", Susan pushed her hand forward in greeting. "She is the strict woman you met on the platform."

Harry shook the presented hand with a nod. "Oh. I am Harry. Harry Potter."

The moment he uttered his name, four heads whipped in his direction and suppressing the urge duck his head in embarrassment, Harry patiently met their gaze. Simultaneously, their eyes flicked upward to his forehead, to glance at his trademarked lightning bolt scar but to his evident surprise, no one spoke out loud with exuberance. Apparently, the children were much more mannered than the adults, for a moment later, they schooled their expressions, as though nothing of significance had taken place.

"Hello, Harry. I am Hannah Abbot", a chubby girl with twin pigtails introduced herself with a visible blush on her face. Harry tilted his head in confusion as the girl's face steadily reddened under his gaze and within moments she resembled a ripe tomato but before Harry could see whether the girl could turn even redder, Susan elbowed her and with an awkward cough, she composed herself.

The brown haired boy sitting beside Hannah glanced around nervously before rubbing his hands to alleviate his discomfort. "I am Terry. Terry Boot. Nice to meet you all."

The bespectacled brown haired girl beside Harry twisted in her seat to turn to him before presenting her hand. "I'm Lisa Turpin."

Harry shook her hand, wondering to himself about when he had become the impromptu leader of this group, as all of them were staring at him expectantly, as though he was about to offer a motivational speech. Pondering over what they could even discuss before they reached Hogwarts, Harry came to the conclusion that the only thing all of them might be interested in could be their to-be house. "So, what house do you people think you will be sorted into?"

Susan would be happy with any house as long as it was not Slytherin as she thought she was not really ambitious and Hannah was uncertain about where her talents lie, so, she presumed that she could be in Hufflepuff. Evidently, it was still inculcated into the minds of the children that Hufflepuff was for people who do not fit into any house. Terry would be pleased if he was sorted into Ravenclaw, for he loved reading and research and even Lisa admitted that she would like it if she was sorted into Ravenclaw, for the same reasons as Terry Boot. Then came his turn and all of them shifted their gazes to him once again, with the same expectant look plastered on their faces. Someday he must instill into all their impressionable minds that he was no benchmark to be judged upon.

"Um, I am not really sure", Harry admitted with a shrug and some of them lost the vigor in their expressions. "Every house seems good but, I heard that your personality determines your house. But it's not like we'll remain the same after seven years, right? Our personality changes and we change, for better or worse."

His declaration was met with unpredicted silence and assuming that he did not convey himself properly, Harry hastily added. "Hey! It's not like I am against it or anything. Just that it doesn't matter which house we're in. Make friends with everyone and enjoy your experience, that's all I say."

Or that's what Remus said. Remus's idea of enjoyment meant studying in the library for twelve hours a day. Harry still wasn't sure whether to follow the advice or not.

Delectable silence reigned over the compartment but this time, Harry comprehended the fact that this silence was not because of displeasure but because his companions were awed by his inadvertent speech.

"It's decided then", Susan shouted to once again break the silence. "Let's make a promise!" she declared enthusiastically. "That we'll always remain friends even if we're in different houses."

Her suggestion was met with a chorus of cheers and with a pleasant smile on his face, Harry returned back to his boring past time of gazing out of the window. Apparently, their cheers woke up Remus, who was beaming at them and at the mischievous wink that was flashed his way from his caretaker, Harry flushed before hiding his face under his school robe.

Before Remus could embarrass him further, the door of the compartment slid open to reveal a bushy, brown haired, buck teethed girl and an apprehensive, pudgy boy. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one", the girl inquired in a bossy tone.

Harry glanced at the fidgeting boy once again, noting that his self-confidence seemed to be at record low levels and then to the girl, who appeared confident at first glance but was still as nervous as Neville, if not more. "I haven't. But I think that I can help."

"Really?" the girl seemed vaguely surprised, as though she didn't expect that he would take her seriously. Admittedly, a missing toad was not something to get worried over but when you have nothing to do but to stare at the trees and the cattle passing by, even such trivial things must be welcomed wholeheartedly.

"Hmm", Harry nodded, before rising from his seat and walked towards the boy, who stumbled back as Harry lurched forward. "Can you describe your toad for me? You know, like its name, texture, smell..."

"How will that help?" the girl frowned while Neville seemed to be ready to do anything without protest. If the girl continued this behavior, then she would be crying in the school bathrooms in no time after getting bullied by people who definitely wouldn't be as uncaring as him about her outward nature.

Harry shifted his gaze to the girl, noticing the way her stern expression faltered at his stare and with a sigh, he explained. "I know a summoning spell but, I am not too good at it to do it without the complete image of what I am summoning. But if you want to know more about this spell, you have to smile first."

"What?" she blinked in surprise.

"Smile", Harry iterated before gesturing at his face. He might be coming off as rude but well, his only justification was that she started it first. "You know, the thing people do when they are happy."

"I know what a smile is!" she yelled, with her fingers clenched into fists and her face flushed with annoyance. "I just don't know how these two are related."

"People normally request things with a smile", Harry pointed out, enjoying the way her eyes narrowed after he spoke. "I don't exactly know why but it makes people more welcoming, I think...likable behavior or something."

"Let's go, Neville", she turned around with her arms crossed across her chest. "We'll ask in the next compartment."

"But he said he could help", Neville protested, albeit in a low tone and Harry was surprised that the boy could even protest with how meek he seemed at first glance. It might be that hiding under the meek persona was a brave boy waiting to escape the dark confines of his heart.

"Yes, of course", Harry agreed, as he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, noting the way the boy stood straighter under his arm. "I am against the behavior, not against providing help."

The girl huffed but stood in her place, facing the opposite way. "It's your choice, Neville."

Neville shifted on his feet, flickering his gaze between the green eyed boy and the bushy haired girl before sighing heavily. "His name is Trevor. He is a slimy, murky green colored toad and he doesn't smell that good. I think he smells like rotten milk or unclean toilets..."

"That's vivid enough", Harry interrupted before the boy could get more imaginative. The visages of the three girls behind him turned a light green at the description but the Terry seemed to be holding himself well, although Harry suspected that the boy was inwardly laughing at the other three girls.

Harry surreptitiously cast the summoning spell, for if they noticed his silver wand, that would lead to another round of questions. "Accio, Trevor."

They waited for a few moments, during the time which the bushy haired seemed gleeful that his spell didn't work, but out of nowhere, a toad zoomed through the window before slamming Harry right in the stomach.

"Damn it!" Harry yelled as he held his stomach, while Neville hurriedly grabbed the slippery toad into his hands. "I knew I should have practiced it more." Remus howled in laughter, startling the other occupants but at Harry's narrow-eyed glare, he turned in the other direction, though Harry observed with annoyance that Remus's shoulders still seemed to be shaking.

"What spell did you use?" the girl demanded before recollecting his previous words. Her curiosity seemed to have won over her reluctance and with a strained smile on her face, she asked again. "Can you please tell me what spell you have used?"

"See! That was not hard, was it?" Harry grinned before taking pity upon the inquisitive girl. "This is the summoning spell and the incantation is 'Accio'. Not difficult to do once you learn it but the learning process is painful."

Harry shuddered as he remembered the incident with his card placed on London's main road and he was sure that he heard Remus's chuckle from behind him at his statement. The werewolf wouldn't be laughing if he could remember what happened after Harry was successful for the first time. The blasting spell was truly a godsend.

"That's a fourth-year spell!"

"Oh, you do know about it. You must have studied an awful lot, then."

"You are the one to talk", she pursed her lips, as though she was struggling with a decision and with a pained expression on her face, she extended her hand. "I am Hermione. Hermione Granger."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Granger", Harry shook her hand with an amused smile on his face. He never knew that a person could be so unwilling to even introduce themselves. "I am Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" Her eyes widened, making Harry shake his head in exasperation as she reverted back to her previous behavior. "I know all about you, of course — I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"And none of them are even remotely true", Harry informed with a casual wave of his hand.

"But how can they be wrong? These are published books!" she objected with a scandalized expression, as though Harry committed a sinful blasphemy and definitely not a forgivable one.

"Well, they're about me," Harry pointed out like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And I think I know quite a lot about me to know what's true and what's not. Books are written by humans, Hermione, not gods."

She looked about ready to argue but a second later, she unclenched her fingers before adorning a defeated expression. "I need to think about this."

"Excellent!" Harry assented with a slight inclination of his head. She might not be as irredeemable as she looked. "So, until then, do you want to join us?"

She took a moment to answer but one look at Neville's eager face made her decision for her. "Sure."

They adjusted in their seats to provide room for two more people and before silence could engulf the compartment once again, Harry spoke. "So, to celebrate this joyous moment of Neville reuniting with his...er, lovely toad, let me tell you the story of how I learned the summoning spell. It was a bright Sunday afternoon in London, with the sky clear of any clouds and the roads clear of any imbeciles and then suddenly…"

A few moments into the story, everybody understood that the story was as fake as the tale about flying pigs but nobody wanted to interrupt the exuberant green eyed boy and well, no one could argue that the story wasn't interesting.

* * *

Remus abandoned him in favor of taking the carriages to the castle and after an unexciting walk through a slippery narrow pathway, the gazes of the seven students fell upon the mighty castle with many turrets and towers, perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky.

Harry's heart began thudding wildly in his chest at the sight, his nerves tingling with anticipation while his mind shut down in shock before rebooting again. This was where he was going to stay for the next seven years, in a castle learning magic. It still felt like a dream to him but the chilly air of the night that raised goosebumps on his pale skin and the cold water of the black lake that lapped at his feet told otherwise and he was indeed glad for this constant reminder, for he felt that he might get lost in this ocean of magnificence.

The door swung open at once to reveal a tall black-haired witch in emerald-green robes, with a stern expression on her aged visage. 'This must be Professor McGonagall', Harry thought with a shiver. 'According to Remus, she is not someone to be crossed.'

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor and Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from the doorway to the right before Mcgonagall showed them into a small, empty chamber off the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts", Prof McGonagall began her usual speech, while Harry ignored her in favor of scrutinizing his fellow peers. They were an interesting bunch, with most of them appearing understandably nervous while some tried to fake courage to impress their companions. There were a few blonds, a lot of brunettes, two redheads and the remaining were black haired people but since they were huddled so closely, it was rather hard to scan all of them at once. 'Maybe when they are about to be sorted?'

"Perhaps, Mr. Potter can explain what could be possibly more interesting than knowing about the school he would study in", Prof McGonagall interrupted his musings with a glare that made Harry take a step back in fear but her comment brought up a new round of whispers from the group.

"Did she say 'Potter'?"

"I heard that he was on the train?"

"Does he really have the scar?"

Before Professor McGonagall could pop a vein due to her rising anger, Harry spoke up. "Nothing whatsoever, Professor. I couldn't possibly imagine what could be more interesting than this. Please forgive my lack of attention, for I am merely nervous about what is in store for us."

"Those things will disclose themselves within a few minutes, Mr. Potter. So, I advise you to concentrate on more important matters", the glare subsided within a few moments and Harry discreetly breathed a sigh of relief. No wonder Remus suggested to never vex Professor McGonagall.

There were still a few murmurs, with people occasionally glancing at him but as McGonagall resumed her speech, the noise was abruptly silenced and the students affixed their stares to the emotionless visage of the Gryffindor Head of the House. After McGonagall left, they were ambushed by a group of ghosts and just as the students crowded in fear, Harry felt his kleptomaniac tendencies kicking in and without any care for the consequences, he deceivingly dug his hand into the pocket of a student, only to find his fingers clutching a stupid rat.

But before he could return the struggling animal to the pocket of whoever the kid was, the students distanced themselves from each other, leaving Harry with no clue of whose stinking rat he stole. God, these days his fate was truly as ugly as a Knockturn alley's old hag. With no other options left and not willing to part with something he had stolen, Harry pocketed the rat and turned his head to meet the gaze of the Professor McGonagall. "The sorting ceremony is about to start."

On top of a stool was a wizard's pointed hat and if Remus hadn't already informed him about the sorting process, Harry would've been on the floor, howling with laughter at the method of sorting. Still, a few sniggers escaped his mouth, making the blond haired girl beside him to stare at him weirdly.

The hat abruptly began to sing and Harry, who was not informed by Remus about this particular trait of the hat, started sniggering uncontrollably and as students turned to stare at him, Harry buried his fist in his mouth to suppress his laughter. He was sure that Remus was sitting at the staff table, laughing his ass off at Harry's predicament, for one of Harry's hilarious traits was that if he saw something peculiarly stupid, he couldn't rein in his laughter.

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song and it bowed to each of the four tables before becoming still again. Harry breathed heavily for a few moments after his amusement had abated and straightened himself, he stared ahead. The rat in his pocket squirmed again but Harry threateningly gave it a squeeze, nonverbally conveying that he wouldn't be kind enough to treasure its life and under his vicious assault, the rat stilled.

The sorting process was intriguing, with the hat taking more time for some people and no time at all to sort some others. Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones were sorted into Hufflepuff while Terry boot was sorted into Ravenclaw and Hermione Granger was unsurprisingly sorted into Gryffindor, as that was the house she was hoping to get sorted into. The blond haired girl beside him, named Daphne Greengrass was sorted into 'Slytherin' and considering her relieved expression, it was what she desired.

But the sorting only became interesting when a blond haired, pale skinned boy named Draco Malfoy was called out. For any outside person, the Malfoy heir appeared to be confident but to Harry's trained eye, the boy was internally struggling with something. Black shade was beginning to form under his eyes, as though he had a distinct lack of sleep and his fingers were twitching occasionally, as though his nerves were frayed. Though he seemed to be strutting forward with grace, there was a clear hesitation to his steps and behind that confident and proud visage was something mysterious.

The hat sat on his head for a few minutes and they appeared to be arguing but to the evident surprise of a lot of students, the Hat finally shouted, 'Ravenclaw'.

Judging by the even paler visage and the slight tremors that wracked the perturbed boy's body, the result was something even he did not concede with. But once someone was sorted, there was no rushing back and as though the weight of the world was placed upon his shoulders, the boy trudged forward to the silent Ravenclaw table, in a clear contrast to how he initially appeared.

The students took a few moments to snap out of their shock and after that, the sorting progressed normally until his name was called and suddenly, whispers spread through the tables like wildfire. Digging his fingers into his pockets, Harry lazily strolled forward, to the consternation of Prof McGonagall and evident glee of Remus and before the hat dropped over his eyes, he saw the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him.

"Hmm", a not unexpected voice murmured in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. An abundance of courage. Fought with a dragon already? Successfully broke into Gringotts! Oh, Godric would've cut an arm and a leg to have you in his house, Mr. Potter. Not a bad mind either. That was an exceptional speech in the train, indeed. Wisdom gained from your experiences and there are an awful lot of them. Plenty of Loyalty. A raging thirst to prove yourself...not just a little too. What a complex person you are, Mr. Potter. Such diverse traits are not usually seen and considering your other tendencies, it makes you an extremely dangerous person to deal with. So, where do I put you?"

"As you have already heard...or seen, I don't care about what house I am in. Just don't spill the secrets in my mind into any curious ears", Harry pleaded, though, on the inside, he was wondering if people would mind if he stole the sorting hat. It seemed to be a great artifact, obviously useful, and definitely not bad at conversations. Judging by the raspy chuckle that echoed in his head, the hat was aware of his musings.

"Oh, do not fret, Mr. Potter. I am bound by magic to not divulge anything I _see_ in the minds of the students. And about stealing me? Well, the staff might lose their wits but I certainly do not mind a good vacation from the boring Headmaster's office."

"Your permission is all I need", Harry smiled as the hat's laughter rang in between his ears. "So, what house did you decide upon?"

"I am willing to leave that choice to you, Mr. Potter. In which house do you think you will prosper without any hindrances?"

"Any house which can provide me with a lot of freedom and nobody expects anything from me. Is there any house like that?" Harry posed his question as an answer to the hat's question and the ancient relic hummed in response.

"Then I suggest Ravenclaw. The students in there are highly reserved and they do not indulge in any house rivalry with any of the other houses. Hufflepuff would be fine too but, in your case, your loyalty is only limited to the people you truly care about and as such, it is not a perfect fit for your personality."

"Isn't Professor Flitwick the head of the Ravenclaw house?" Harry inquired and the hat hummed affirmatively. "Then, Ravenclaw it is."

"Ah, I look forward to seeing you grow, Mr. potter. From what I can infer, it will be an interesting seven years. So, until then, take care in **Ravenclaw!** "

The hat shouted the last word to everybody and the loudest cheer reverberated throughout the hall from the Ravenclaw table and with a grin blossoming on his face, Harry skipped over to his house table. From the High table, Remus gave a thumbs up, though Harry was certain that Remus had already anticipated his sorting and Harry winked in return.

Lisa Turpin joined him at the Ravenclaw while the last student, Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin. Harry introduced himself to his delighted housemates, though Draco Malfoy still appeared dazed and after bantering with enthusiastic students Harry dug into his food while keeping an eye on his pale skinned Housemate. There was something truly mysterious about Draco Malfoy and if Harry was ever bothered about this year being uninteresting, then the terrifying glint in the gray eyes of the Malfoy heir reassured him.

Draco Malfoy slumped down on his bed before closing the curtains to obscure the view of his room. With trembling hands, he removed a black leather-bound diary from his pocket before gently placing it on his bed. After making sure that his roommate, a boy named Anthony Goldstein, was sleeping, Draco took out his quill and ink.

"I am sorted into Ravenclaw. What should I do now?"

Anyone who might be observing this event would've clutched their heart in shock, for the ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though being sucked into the page, it vanished. Oozing back out of the page, in the very same ink, appeared the reply.

" _ **Do not worry, Draco. Everything is going to be fine. After all, this sorting isn't going to change anything. Nothing at all."**_

* * *

 **Author's Note: I hoped to write this one single chapter without any twists but then my mind made this decision for me. Oh, I love it when something you never expect appears suddenly in front of your eyes. Don't you?**

 **For all of my faithful readers and reviewers, I have two messages for you.**

 **1) Please continue reading and reviewing, for nothing pleases me more than a pop of a notification in my mobile with each new review.**

 **2) To answer your every question indirectly, I present you with a _Riddle_ to solve: For every question you find an answer to, a new question appears. A circle has no end, only a center.**


	7. Fate of the Wicked

**Disclaimer: We are not afraid of the outcome. We simply fear the journey itself.**

 **I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

By the time, Harry Potter reached his dormitories in the Ravenclaw House, he was thoroughly exhausted, though the only bright side of this night was that his roommate was Terry Boot and there was no new round of introductions to irritate the hell out of him. He was not averse to meeting with new people, but with everyone on one day? Now that's being ambitious.

So, one could understand that when the rat in his pocket squirmed again, Harry was not just a little annoyed at the pesky creature and with his eyes half lidded in a show of exasperation, he dug his hand into his pocket to free the fat rat. At his annoyed stare, the rat ceased its movement, staring up at him with those beady pathetic little black eyes, though it could be because of exhaustion rather than fear but Harry was far too out of his senses to care at the moment.

With a barely a thought or plan, he opened the lid of his trunk with one hand and grabbed one of his oversized smelly socks and before the rat could comprehend the sheer level of its misfortune, Harry dumped it into the sock and tied the open end with one of his many shoelaces that the Dursleys presented him as a farewell gift. They were frighteningly useful, one part of Harry's mind mused, but in his sleepy state, he ignored the betraying thought of gratefulness towards his relatives.

He dropped that wriggling sack into one of the horrible junky corners of his trunk, where one could even hide a dead body for a few weeks and still nobody would be able to find it and closed the lid to that section of the trunk with a happy sigh. He was feeling inexplicably accomplished.

With those joyful and encouraging thoughts, Harry Potter drifted into a dreamless sleep, entirely uncaring that he just forsook a poor rat to a fate worse than Azkaban.

It must be noted that Harry Potter was not famous for his exceptional eidetic memory or his unknown skill for trunk decorum or even his devotional love towards the deprived animal species.

So, no one could actually blame him when by the morning, he forgot that he dumped a rat he stole into the deepest desolate depths of his despicable trunk. And unfortunately, for the rat, this section of the trunk was something Harry stayed wary of and hence never opened, as it was usually filled some of the belongings he surely did not care about but was too lazy to throw away. Like Dudley's oversized sock. Or his uncle's broken ear muffins.

And thus began the horrifying tale of how Peter Pettigrew suffered a fate worse than that of a sewage rat, never to see the light of the day again until a few months.

* * *

Harry Potter opened his bleary eyes to the rays of sunshine filtering down through the open window and with a bright smile on his face, for no utter reason, Harry leaped out of his bed and landed on the floor with a thump. His roommate/ recent friend, Terry Boot, jerked at the sound and stared at Harry with a cocked eyebrow. "Why are you so enthusiastic this morning?"

Harry turned to his friend, the unsettling smile still visible on his face. "I feel as though I've done something remarkably proud last night. But I can't remember what it is."

"Getting sorted into 'Ravenclaw'?" Terry suggested with a half smile as he ambled over to the bathroom. "I'm pretty happy about it too."

"That's probably it", Harry nodded to himself but the nagging feeling in a distinct corner of his mind persisted. Not one to be discouraged by such trivial things on a bright morning, Harry shrugged before skipping around his new room.

Harry collapsed down on the couch, observing his surroundings as any proper magician should and was thoroughly disappointed by the unexcited state of the Ravenclaw common room. They were studying in a magical institution for god's sake! Why the hell were the senior students scurrying around as though they were puppets with the strings tied to the hands of a probably boring higher power.

If this was the state of the students on the first day, then Harry dreaded to think how it would be as the weeks passed.

With a mischievous grin creeping onto his adorable face, Harry took out his wand and levitated the cushion over to Terry's face before severing the charm. The moment the pillow smacked the oblivious boy directly onto the face, Terry snapped out of his stupor to glance around wildly before his gaze landed on his sniggering roommate.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Terry gritted out as the boy still did not cease his sniggering.

"Practicing, Terry. The first charm we learn in our charms class is the Levitation charm and I thought that we should practice it before class", Harry answered innocently and a second later another cushion landed on Terry's head.

Terry clutched the cushion tightly in his hand before making a throwing motion but Harry held his hands out before he could be assaulted. "Only magic."

Terry brandished his wand and levitated the cushion into the air but a moment later, he lost control of his spell and the cushion successfully landed once again on his face. Harry collapsed down onto the floor, holding his stomach as he tried to reign in his laughter but ultimately failed.

Terry, losing any modicum of shyness, threw the cushion at the cackling boy but at the last moment, Harry slid to the side and the cushion hit a bleary-eyed Anthony Goldstein to the side of his face. "What the hell, Boot?"

"I'm sorry!" Terry yelled as he palmed his face but Anthony, being a short tempered person in general, was not appeased by the apology.

Draco Malfoy, who was sitting on the other side of Anthony Goldstein, gave a look of disdain to his furious roommate before scuttling over to an unoccupied corner of the common room. This action relieved Harry, as he was terribly worried that something was wrong with the Malfoy heir, as he heard from a certain roommate that Malfoys were born arrogant and that trait only worsened as they inevitably grew up.

But his pale and subdued Housemate did not display any of these distinguishable traits last night and in fact, he appeared entirely uncaring of how people viewed him as he sat at the edge of the Ravenclaw table. While his housemates attributed it to his dejection at not being sorted into Slytherin, Harry knew otherwise. For he experienced the same for a few years in the house of his relatives.

It was as though something or someone was blocking the boy from showing his true nature, as though there was a hazy filter between the rest of the world and Draco Malfoy. Concealed behind that mask of indifference was fear or something other equally wretched emotion, as though there was a string tied to the boy's soul with the other end in the hands of someone...sinister.

But well, this was a matter for another day as currently, Terry Boot was approaching him with an aura of vengeance and Harry must escape, lest he suffer at the hands of his seething roommate.

Professor Flitwick, who entered the Ravenclaw common room expecting his students to be dutifully studying as usual was shocked to find the air filled with feathers while a group of first year boys were wrestling on the floor, with ten cushions positioned directly above the head on one Draco Malfoy, who resolved to not indulge in such shameful acts as he sat in a deserted corner.

"What are you boys doing?" Flitwick squeaked and at the sudden voice, Harry lost the hold he had on the cushions and as such, Draco Malfoy was found a moment later, submerged in a mountain of feathers.

"We are practicing!" Terry yelled in reply but flushed rapidly as he recognized the owner of the squeaky voice. "Professor Flitwick!"

"Good morning, Professor Flitwick", Harry greeted with a wave as he rose to his feet and dusted himself of any stray feathers.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter", Flitwick nodded in return with a smile but his face hardened when his gaze fell on the struggling form of Draco Malfoy. "I was not expecting such behavior from you boys."

"Oh, this", Harry flickered his eyes over the room, before waving his wand again. "Reparo!"

In a moment, all the feathers in the room coalesced before returning to their usual position on the couches. "Nothing that can't be repaired."

Draco coughed violently before spitting out a stray feather that rushed over to join the cushions without wasting a second. At least this brought color to the boy's deprived pale cheeks, Harry thought as he watched the boy cough. "Oops."

"I'm not talking about the cushions, Mr. Potter", Flitwick climbed onto a chair to be in level with the boys. "Though that's a very good execution of the Levitation and Repairing charm. Ten points to Ravenclaw. But this is a place for the students to study peacefully and as such, you must maintain discipline as long as you are in the common room."

"But it was so gloomy!" Harry widened his eyes in fake horror, placing his palms on either cheek as he whined.

' _Cute!'_ the same thought went through the minds of the senior girls who were watching the spectacle.

"You will have the time for fun, Mr. Potter", Flitwick sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "But since this is your first day, I won't be deducting any points."

After the Professor explained the basic rules that must be followed and presented them with their time tables, he left and in an instant, Harry was ambushed by three senior girls.

"So, where did you learn those spells, little guy?" one of the girls with flowing dark black hair stood in front of him, blocking his view but what irked him more was the 'little guy' comment. He was just an inch small for his age!

"With the help of my caretaker", Harry replied as he tried to find an opening to escape the claws of the three giggling girls. He pouted when he found that he was thoroughly locked, setting the girls into another fit of giggles.

They ribbed him for a few moments until Terry took pity on him and rescued him with an excuse of missing breakfast and they reluctantly left but not before pinching his cheeks.

Harry pocketed the three galleons and two safety pins he stole as he walked along with Terry and Lisa, feeling ridiculously happy for getting one over the three seniors. Cuteness was indeed a frightening weapon.

* * *

Harry was buttering his toasted bread as he conversed with Lisa Turpin when suddenly, the smell of his favorite fruit hit his senses and without a warning, he rushed over to the Hufflepuff table and wedged himself between Susan and Hannah. "Oh, what a wonderful morning this is turning out to be", Harry sang as he plucked a strawberry out of the bowl before taking a soft bite out of it.

"And everything is fine with the world again", he murmured as he savored its sweetness and with half-lidded eyes, he scanned the two girls on either side of him.

"Good morning. Susan, Hannah", Harry greeted the flustered girls with a nod and at his greeting, Hannah, in an imitation of her expression on the train, turned as red as the divine fruit he was holding. "Are you fine, Hannah? You are burning up."

Hannah let out an inaudible squeak and with a sigh at the state of her friend, Susan, who herself was sporting a blush, spoke up. "This seating is a bit uncomfortable."

"What?" Harry tilted his cutely until he noticed his precarious position and instantly, he was on his feet, facing the other side. He was still uncomfortable with excessive physical contact. Curse the delightful strawberries!

From the other side of the hall, Ron Weasely ran through the door and directly to his brother Percy. "Percy! Scabbers is missing!" he yelled loud enough that the whole hall heard him.

"Mind your manners, Ron!" Percy gritted out as he swiftly glanced around to make sure that his reputation was still unharmed. "He has an annoying habit of doing that, Ron. He will return after a day or so."

Ron opened and closed his mouth at Percy's uncaring tone before dashing to the other end of the table with a flaming face as red as his hair but not before yelling once again. "He was your pet too!"

Percy palmed his face to hide his embarrassment and continued to munch on his bacon as though nothing of significance had occurred.

'Who names an owl 'Scabbers'?' Harry made a face as he thought about how Hedwig might react to that name. He might end up in the hospital wing with a thousand cuts all over his body or buried six feet under the ground – He wouldn't be surprised if his owl was able to successfully bury a dead body. Hedwig's terrifyingly smart. But then he might be biased as Hedwig was a female while 'Scabbers' was definitely a male name.

After finishing his breakfast, rather awkwardly at that, he passed over by the Gryffindor table and handed one of the strawberries to the dejected but extremely hungry redhead. Strawberries were the only route to world peace, after all.

"Thanks, mate", Ron brightened up as expected and Harry simply waved back with a smile.

If only Ron had mentioned that 'Scabbers' was a rat, the fate of a certain individual might have taken an entirely different route. But fate was cruel. Mostly funny but _sometimes_ cruel.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was as strict as they come, with her no-nonsense attitude and a glare that could freeze ice. But at the moment, she was in her cat form, napping on the mahogany desk as she waited for the students to arrive. They slowly trickled in, one by one, bickering among themselves but one green eyed menace bolted through the door before colliding directly onto the desk, snapping Minerva out of her serene reverie.

"That was awesome!" He yelled, with his hands raised into the air after he steadied himself from the collision and had Minerva hadn't been in her animagus form, Harry Potter would've been neck deep in trouble by now. It was a good thing that she wasn't. Or probably not, judging by the boy who was bouncing enthusiastically, a foot away from the desk.

He had his shoes charmed to slide over the stone and it was fortunate that Hogwarts corridors were smooth as a marble and hence before anyone could even discern that the bullet that grazed their shoulders was 'The Harry Potter', he was far out of their sight. But clearly, he did not take brakes into account and hence the desk became the makeshift shield to halt his motion.

His friends Terry and Lisa strolled in after a minute and considering the vexed look on their faces, they were aware of this experiment. Susan and Hannah arrived after them and it was a testament to Harry's current state that they did not take a second to guess what happened. "Harry being crazy?" Susan asked dryly and her friends only nodded tiredly in return.

"What's a cat doing in here?" Harry bent over to be at eye level with the green eyed cat, ignoring his miffed friends, and slightly poked the cat on the head. The cat swiped its claws in retribution and Harry hastily backed away. "God, this place is filled with weird animals."

"Don't annoy it, Harry", Susan walked over to stand beside him. "It could be Professor McGonagall's familiar."

"Does it mean that it is more intelligent than normal animals?" The cat stared at Harry with narrowed eyes but Harry was preoccupied with Susan's answer to notice it. "Then I have just the method to test it."

Harry took out three cards from his pocket and his friends watched curiously as he placed the three cards on the desk before the cat. It was Professor McGonagall's ill fate that they arrived pretty early to the class so she couldn't transform until all the students arrived.

"Dear cat", Harry called out but cringed with shame when he realized how stupid he must have sounded. "Can you select one of these three?"

The cat stared blankly, utterly unwilling to acquiesce with the request but the boy in front of her seemed adamant, so she reluctantly placed her paw on the middle card. Harry grinned as he patted the cat before he flipped the card to reveal a four of diamonds.

Then he clicked his fingers and to the amazement of the students watching and concealed surprise of Prof McGonagall, the card disappeared before appearing outside the window. The card that was floating in the air suddenly dropped down before reappearing in Harry's hands after a few moments. It was obvious that the card took a rather dangerous dive to the ground, as it was coated with mud.

Then he placed the card once again on the table in the same position as before. "Can you pick a card again?"

The fact that the cat could understand what he was saying was in itself a sign that the cat was fairly intelligent but the students were too captivated by the experiment to voice their observations. The cat, not knowing how cruel and harmful Harry's experiments usually were, warily placed its clawed palm again on the middle card to see what would happen.

This time, the moment Professor McGonagall touched the card, she disappeared along with the card before reappearing out of the window and for one frightening moment, shock flashed over the amazed visages of all the students and a look of utter horror appeared on the black cat's face. Then the cat fell down the window with a loud screech, along with the card, and while the card reappeared in Harry's hand, the cat did not. It probably lost its hold on the card while falling.

Terrifying silence echoed in the room until Harry spoke. "So the cat is obviously magical as it couldn't have disappeared along with my card if it did not possess an ounce of magic. But the cat is probably stupid if it touched the same card again even after knowing what would happen."

He sounded immensely wise as he spoke, with a hand stroking his chin while the another hand was placed on his hip. Some of the students immediately agreed with him but a moment later, terrified shouts broke out of the stupefied group. "Dear Merlin! He killed Professor's cat!"

They pounced ruthlessly on the hapless green eyed boy, who quickly ducked under them to appear on the other side. "Wait a minute!", He shouted with his hands placed in front of him in a universal 'stop' gesture. "It's a cat, people. We are on the first floor. This fall wouldn't even scrape it, let alone hurt it. It might be happily skipping on the grounds for escaping this cramped classroom. So calm down and applaud for an experiment well done."

Some of the students returned to their seats, muttering incoherently among themselves while other students looked out of the window for any sign of a black and definitely dead cat. Lisa Turpin, being the studious and strict one out of the group did not waste a moment to start berating Harry and Harry, being a good friend, patiently listened with one ear while thinking of what other exciting experiments he could conduct in such a resourceful school.

"How did you even think that the cat would be intelligent enough to understand what was happening?" Lisa threw her hands up in the air while his three other friends stood on the sidelines and watched. "Even I couldn't have expected that the card will disappear the moment I touch it."

"That's the whole point of the experiment, wasn't it? To test whether the cat was intelligent or not", Harry reasoned nonchalantly, irking her even further. "But even I didn't know that the cat would disappear along with it. I never tested this on any other specimen other than myself and this seemed to be the right time. So, I did it and Voila, my cards could teleport other animals too. You should be happy I didn't test it on any human. Speaking of it, I should do that sometime."

A series of smacks echoed in the classroom as several students face palmed after hearing what he actually intended to do. They were far too horrified by what he was saying to point out that they didn't know what 'teleport' meant or how on earth cards could do that disappearing thing. This explanation triggered another rant from Lisa while even Susan added a few comments from time to time.

This experiment had another merit as he successfully tested whether he could teleport within Hogwarts wards without putting his body at unknown risk. At least now, he could test this theory again with some hard found confidence.

They found seats at the end of the classroom and even after the bell rang, Professor McGonagall did not appear. Just when the students were about to be delighted that they got a free period on their first day, Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom, appearing puzzlingly ruffled and Harry did spot a leaf sticking out of the Professor's hair bun but did not comment anything, thinking that this might be her sense of fashion.

As she turned around to stare at the students, she sent a frightening glare towards Harry, who had to wonder about what he had done to warrant such treatment. But after that, the class continued peacefully.

Harry stared at the match stick on his table intently, appearing for all sakes that he might light it with his gaze, when he was, in fact, trying to achieve the same but finally gave up when the matchstick remained completely unharmed. So, setting fire to things with a look was crossed off his list to assign for future attempts, as success seemed like a strange dream at the moment.

He waved his wand over the matchstick, imagining a silver needle with the word 'Joker' written on its surface and slowly, the match stick transformed, the silver creeping onto it like a hungry snake before enveloping the whole match stick within a second. He held the needle between his fingers, rolling it over and a genuine smile appeared on his face when he saw the word 'Joker' engraved onto the silver pin.

While performing magic with his unusual silver wand required his complete focus on what he was trying to accomplish, as he could feel the magic flowing through his fingers and into the wand, the results were undeniably satisfying as they were near perfect. But since this was a low-grade spell, he did not struggle much to cast it, due to both his extensive practice before coming to Hogwarts and his natural skill at magic manipulation, but as he advanced further, he would fall behind his other classmates if he didn't toil hard, as the effort he should put would easily be thrice of what an average student would. At least, the results made up for the hard work.

Placing his needle on the table, he glanced around, noticing that the remaining students were still struggling with their assignment and he leaned back in chair, with his hands placed behind his head as he thought of how he could transfigure things with the help of his cards, as at the moment, all he could perform were some charms and those too were severely limited. Lost in thought, he did not notice Professor McGonagall arrive at his desk until Terry prodded him with an elbow.

Harry snapped out his stupor to glare at the brown eyed boy but his glare fell short as his gaze fell on the stern visage of Professor McGonagall.

"Why are you loitering instead of finishing your assignment, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall finished with a glare that made Harry gulp nervously. No wonder his dad was afraid of this witch.

"I am done, Professor", Harry presented McGonagall with his silver textured needle and for a moment, McGonagall's expression flickered to surprise before she composed herself and scrutinized the needle in her hands.

She was about to comment about practicing it again when she noticed the word inscribed on it and this time, she couldn't quell the surprise. "This is an extremely good transfiguration, Mr. Potter", she managed to say. "But please refrain from flitting away your time in my class. You could advance onto the next step if you wish."

"Oh, I am done with that too", Harry waved his silver wand once again and this time, the needle instantly altered into a wooden match stick. McGonagall jolted back in surprise, appearing for all intents like a startled cat.

"Be careful, Mr. Potter! Do not cast any spells when another person is within the range of the spell", Prof McGonagall admonished as she placed the match stick on the desk and Harry ducked his head to evade the glare of the enraged witch. Then her gaze fell onto the wand he was carrying and in spite of her sternness, her eyes widened once again. "Is that your wand, Mr. Potter?"

Harry stared at his wand and in fake astonishment, he jumped out of his chair. "What sorcery is this! My wand turned to silver along with the matchstick!"

All the students turned to him at the declaration, their eyes landing on the silver wand in his hand and at once, several gasps sprang up while students left their seats or craned their necks to stare at the wand.

"Mr. Potter! Take your seat", McGonagall snapped and turned around to address the other students. "All of you! Return to your seats and continue your assignment or I will have to deduct five points from each of you."

Harry immediately rushed to his seat, comprehending that he had gone too far and he turned to face the blazing glare of the transfiguration professor with a wide repentant grin on his face as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Your mischief..."

Words failed her as she stared at the boy's face, reminding her so much of his father during his school days and that mere grin was enough to drown her in a sea of memories. Blinking rapidly, she collected herself before she could lose sight of the shore. "I would have awarded you with points for your exceptional transfiguration but the deduction of points for your behavior in class negated them. So, I suggest that you cease your silly antics, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded vehemently and with an exhausted sigh, the professor sauntered over to her desk. Feeling remorseful for indulging in mischief when the Professor was evidently stressed – For what reason, Harry had no idea – Harry walked out of his seat to help his friends who were still struggling with their spell.

"Cast it again, Susan", Harry instructed as he inspected her wand movements after McGonagall accorded him with a nod for helping out his friend. Susan executed it perfectly, so then the problem might not lie with her external actions but the internal dilemma.

"While performing any spell, you must keep three things in mind, Susan", Harry lifted three fingers in an indication and most of the students glanced his way as he spoke. "The three 'I's' to be precise. The Intent, Imagination and Intellect and exactly in that order of importance. So either your intent is not sufficient or you are not imagining what you desire because there is no reason for me to doubt your intelligence."

Susan blushed but then, she knew that Harry was too oblivious to even realize that he had just complimented and hence, the blush receded quickly. Hannah's glare was also a prominent factor.

"So, try it again but this time, strengthen your will and vividly imagine what you are aiming to achieve", Harry advised and as one, most of the class nodded before focusing on their match sticks again.

There were several joyful exclamations as most of them altered their matches a little but considering their previous predicament, this was a huge improvement. "See! Now, try it again and again until you feel satisfied with your result."

Professor McGonagall would have applauded if not for the boy's next comment. "So, I will take leave, Susan. This has been a tiring morning with experiments and stupid cats."

That reminder was enough to make all of her appreciation dissipate like vapor from a boiling kettle of water, and with a thin-lipped stare, she watched the boy return to his seat to check on the progress of his friend, Terry Boot.

'Dear merciful Morgana! This boy might be worse than all the marauders combined', McGonagall lamented as a mischievous smile formed on the boy's face once again.

* * *

 **Author's Note: A fairly short and uneventful chapter. I suspect that this might be the first chapter with no cliffhanger at the end. This should have been a long – read extremely long – chapter but each important event loses its significance if I cramp up all of them in a single chapter. So, wait one more day and you will have a pretty – read immensely – interesting chapter as an update.**

 **How many of you thought that I would immediately free Sirius? As I've said, Fate is not that generous and when time is ripe, all the events click to provide one epic moment. So until then, enjoy the tale of a cute green eyed menace.**

 **So, review your opinion and your usual guess of what big reveal might come up in the next chapter.**


	8. Unintentional Chaos

**Disclaimer: There always exists a necessary evil. To be a stepping block for the Hero to rise or to be the depths of hell they should fall into.**

 **I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

After the eventful Transfiguration class, Harry, Lisa and Terry parted ways with their Hufflepuff friends as Ravenclaw students had charms with Slytherin while Hufflepuff had Herbology with Gryffindors. Lisa and Terry walked while Harry skipped happily beside them, ignoring the curious stares he was attracting from the Hogwarts population.

After the brief stint in Transfiguration classroom, Lisa decided that they should reach the class exactly on time to prevent Harry from harming any more hapless animals and Harry acquiesced with her demands, although Lisa could swear that she saw his fingers cross as he spoke.

They arrived at the classroom with barely a few seconds to spare and as such most of the seats were filled. Lisa and Terry found an empty pair of seats in the middle row, while Harry was left with no choice as there was only a single seat available beside the girl he saw during the sorting ceremony.

Shrugging, he ambled over to the empty seat before plopping down gracelessly and while some of the students glanced his way at his lack of manners, the girl didn't even twitch. That in itself was suspicious but he had no time to ponder upon his observations as Professor Flitwick entered the classroom and swiftly propped himself onto the desk.

As the professor reached his name, Flitwick peered over his spectacles to stare at Harry and then, the professor noticed the girl sitting beside Harry. "Already promoting inter-house relations! Five points to Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

Harry was not stupid enough to point out that it was the only seat available, so, he simply smiled at the grinning professor.

The girl gave no reaction.

Skepticism bubbled within him, threatening to boil over and Harry had to quell it under the pretense of obtaining more info before drawing conclusions.

The professor was teaching the Levitation charm and though Harry was more than proficient at the spell, he didn't want to disrespect the cheerful professor by lazing off during class. So, for now, his suspicions were pushed to the side. The class was informational as even though Harry could execute the spell perfectly, it didn't mean that he was aware of the mechanics behind it.

After the class, similar to their transfiguration class, they were provided with time to practice the spell and as such, Harry was once again left with more free time than he desired. So, he did the only thing one could do when they were confined to a classroom along with their classmates. Observation.

Naturally, he began with the girl beside him.

The blond hair that cascaded down to her shoulders seemed as smooth as the surface of his silver wand and as straight as the towers of the Hogwarts castle. The blond hair gently stroked her pale skin with each gust of the wind before obediently settling down behind her ear, as though they wouldn't dare to sacrilege such utter perfection. The ghostly paleness of her skin contrasted with the pink fullness of her thin lips, accentuating the mesmerizing effect they had on his senses and every time she uttered the incantation, the lips parted barely to allow a whisper before they reverted to the closeness of their previous position.

But her most striking feature was her sky blue eyes, appearing as though they were twin mirrors that reflected the bright, cloudless afternoon sky and every time the light reflected off her irises, they twinkled like sapphires on an ornament.

Her movements were filled with unrivaled grace, as though she was afraid to even waste an ounce of her precious energy over wasteful movements and even as she failed repeatedly, there was not a sign of annoyance of her marble-like visage.

If not for her lifelike movements, Harry would have sworn that she was carved magnificently out of white marble with sapphires for eyes and pink roses for lips.

Entranced by something...or someone who was so opposite...so clashing with who he was, Harry slowly raised his hands to determine whether this girl was even human.

She could be a vampire for all he knew. Or a girl raised from the dead – Could they do that? Or a vampire girl who was raised from the dead. So many possibilities.

Just as his intrusive finger was about to poke her pale, blemish free cheek, she twisted her head to stare at him and losing all semblance of balance at the sudden scrutiny of such intimidating stare, Harry slipped out of his chair to land painfully on the floor.

He ducked behind the chair to escape the terrifying blue-eyed gaze and slowly poked his head out to see whether the girl was still staring at him but, to his relief, she was back to practicing her spell. Swiftly rising to his feet, he paid no heed to the snickers from other students and took his seat.

Harry stayed silent for nearly a minute, during which the girl managed to levitate her feather into the air and she was the second person in the class to accomplish this feat, with the first being Harry.

"Ten points to Slytherin, Miss Greengrass", Flitwick shouted from his position where he was overlooking the progress of a dazed Slytherin student.

The girl acknowledged the points with a nod, not aware that her simple nod appeased the doubts of a certain green-eyed boy.

"So, um, I'm Harry. Harry Potter", Harry extended his hand, with his face split in half by a mile-wide grin. At least his enthusiasm might seep into the girl and provide some much-needed emotion.

"Daphne Greengrass", she shook his hand with her face blank and Harry nearly flinched when he perceived how cold her hand was. It was as though she just took it out of a freezer and then coated it with icicles.

He withdrew his hand and discreetly rubbed his palms together to retain the warmth. "Did you know about magic before you came to Hogwarts, Miss Greengrass?"

Daphne gave a nod in reply. Harry blinked owlishly when there was no further response and settled back in his seat. Till now, he had foolishly thought that he was socially inept. He was a playboy when compared to this blond haired girl.

Too soon, the class came to an abrupt end and as the girl walked out of the door, he rushed after her. "Miss Greengrass!"

Daphne turned around at his call and with an ungraceful stumble, he halted beside her. "Can you do me a favor?"

Daphne raised one delicate eyebrow and that display of human expression encouraged Harry even further. "Nothing significant. Just pick a card out of this deck."

It was fortunate that what happened in the Transfiguration class still did not reach everyone through the Hogwarts rumor mill. Otherwise, Harry would have been thrown into the dungeons for even suggesting it. It was simply his barely existent luck that Lisa and Terry, being Ravenclaws at heart, were busy asking their questions. Judging by the enthusiasm of the diminutive professor as he explained, it would a few minutes before they might even glance his way.

Reluctantly, she picked the topmost card. A Queen of Hearts. Harry took the card from her hands and then turned it over before handing it to her again.

She flipped the card with not a flicker of emotion on her face and astonishingly, it altered to Ace of Diamonds.

While anyone would have shouted out in surprise or at least widened their eyes, she merely bestowed him with a slight nod, as though he was a fan asking for her autograph, before twisting on her heels and strolling away, leaving a gobsmacked Boy-who-lived in her wake.

"Peeves", Harry called out in a daze and the poltergeist, who was floating in the air above Harry while holding a water balloon, glided down to the ground with a pout on his clown face for being caught in the act.

"Scarred Potty calling Peeves?"

"Pick a card", Harry ordered and it was a testament to Harry's bewildered expression that Peeves complied without protest.

A Joker. Why didn't he guess? Harry took the card into his hands and then flipped it over before handing it to Peeves again. This time, it turned to Five of Spades.

Peeved gasped loudly before hollering as he rushed through the corridor. "DARK MAGIC! DARK MAGIC IN THE HALLS!"

Huh. This at least reassured him that the problem didn't lie with his tricks. They were as awesome as usual. God, it was a sin to even doubt the awesomeness of his tricks.

Harry stared as Daphne Greengrass ambled down the corridor, with her blond hair swinging behind her back, completely disregarding her surroundings. It was like they were polar opposites. A boy who wore his heart on his sleeve and a girl who was as emotionless as ice.

On that fateful fay, Harry Potter resolved that by the time this year was completed, he would procure a genuine reaction from Daphne Greengrass.

After all, it wouldn't do for someone to be immune to his tricks.

* * *

The rest of the table was listening with rapt attention as Terry recounted the tale that occurred in the Transfiguration classroom, during the time which Harry found out that Terry was an extremely good raconteur and as Terry spoke, wide disbelief spread over the ranks of students. Judging by the state of Hufflepuff table, Susan wasted no time on emulating Terry and repeating the incident to her own housemates with wild and highly inaccurate gestures. No way in hell did he cackle evilly when the cat teleported outside the window.

The senior students glanced at one another, their faces flushed as they strove to rein their laughter and when Terry told how the cat shrieked as it fell, the table roared with laughter while a few students fell down the bench, rolling on the stone floor as they convulsed with laughter.

The Hufflepuff students found themselves in the same predicament and they were less enthusiastic at hiding their guffaws than their Ravenclaw counterparts.

"Merlin's soggy underpants! He threw Professor McGonagall out of the window!" one of the students managed to say and as such, all of the first years stilled.

With dread rising in his chest, Harry asked in an uncertain tone. "That's just a cat, right?"

The senior shook his head fervently, as he rubbed the tears leaking out of his eyes. "No. That's Professor McGonagall's animagus form."

Harry's head whipped towards the staff table, where Professor McGonagall was hiding her mortification as Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra ribbed her about the scene. Remus was hiding his face behind his plate as McGonagall glared at him, which led Harry to believe that Prof McGonagall might be aware of his living arrangements...or probably not, as Remus's shoulders were shaking as he silently snickered. Snape looked as though a melon got stuck in his throat or that might be his usual expression; Harry still had to decide.

Steadying his spectacles and wiping off any expression from his face, Harry tried to look as innocent as possible, while thinking about how much trouble he was in for assaulting a professor albeit unwittingly. That too and he was biting his cheek to suppress the chuckles that were threatening to escape him.

* * *

It was a fairly embarrassed Harry that reached the defense classroom, as the whole school was snickering behind his back as he passed by and it did not help that two red haired twins, who he had never met in his life, came to his table as he was eating and bowed deeply before proclaiming that they were his disciples from that moment. By the time they finished, Harry ducked so low in embarrassment that only his hair was visible above the table.

They were making it seem as though he had actually performed a prank when he was actually worried about how he should apologize to the cat animagus.

They had the defense class with Slytherins once again and though he tried his best to concentrate on what Remus was explaining about differences between curses and jinxes, his stare frequently shifted towards the blond haired girl. The fact that she caught him in the act a few times while the brown haired girl beside her giggled every time he was found out was less humiliating than the fact that his eyes still seemed to shift in her direction even after that.

By the end of the day, he might be marked as a pervert as well as a prankster when, in fact, he was not any of those.

He was just an immensely curious eleven-year old who just didn't know what's good for him. Or when to quit.

There were no demonstrations in the first class for Harry to once again shine into focus – Thank, Merlin – and the lesson continued peacefully.

While rest of the students slowly trickled out of the classroom, Harry stayed back to help Remus with rearranging the chairs and the unusual objects Remus brought for display. "I think they loved it. You were very good there, Remus."

"Thank you", Remus rubbed the dust off his hands as he smiled. "Although I noticed that a certain green eyed boy was more interested in something other than my teaching."

"That doesn't imply anything", Harry warned as he narrowed his eyes at Remus. "I was simply curious."

"Don't worry, Harry. James himself was quite smitten with Lily in his first year itself", Remus ruffled Harry's hair while Harry tried his best to swat the annoying hand aside. "I think it was love at first sight. Ah, young love."

"Need I remind you that I still did not test human teleportation with another person?" Harry cocked his eyebrow challengingly. "Especially within Hogwarts wards."

It was no wonder that the simple threat managed to silence Remus. "What is it that I hear about your experiment with Prof McGonagall? I've never seen her so mortified in my whole life."

"I didn't know that she was the cat!" Harry grumbled as he threw his hands up in the air. "At least she could have informed me before simply touching the card. I thought the Hogwarts professors are more cautious than that."

Remus stifled a chuckle at Harry's rant. "You can't blame her for not expecting that, Harry."

Harry's only answer was a petulant pout.

"So, I think you have the potions class next, right?" Harry nodded in reply. "I suggest for you to hurry as fast as you can. Severus is not known for his kind and loving nature."

Harry waved rapidly before dashing to the door.

"And, Harry!" Harry skidded for a second before halting as Remus called out. "Be careful. I don't want you getting in trouble with Professor Snape."

"I'll try my best", Harry replied cheekily before rushing out of the door.

"I think it should be Snape I must be worried about", Remus shook his head exasperatedly.

* * *

Harry reached the class just in time and thankfully, they had potions with Gryffindor. He did not believe that he could survive another encounter with that girl, especially in the potions class.

Harry took the seat saved by his friend Terry and just as he sat, the professor glided out of the office, with his cloak billowing behind him.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity."

The moment their eyes met, emerald green with coal black, Harry knew that their relationship wouldn't be a pleasant one. That was the same look he had seen in the eyes of his aunt sometimes. Hatred for something that Harry couldn't control. When it was not in his hands to change, there was no use in trying, was it?

Harry silently apologized to Remus but Harry did try. It's just that the professor reminded Harry of his deplorable aunt and that was definitely not a good first impression in Harry's mind. Why would anyone even try to hate someone when it made no fucking sense to actually do so?

The black eyes were cold and empty but Harry could feel the dislike radiating in waves from the Professor. But just for the sake of not antagonizing Remus, Harry remained silent.

After the roll call, Snape gave a commendable speech about the subtle art of potions and not behaving like dunderheads. Harry noticed Hermione inching forward in her seat, gripping the desk tightly; probably to prove that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape yelled in a whisper that managed to reach Harry's seat. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry inwardly thanked Remus for all the times that the man nagged Harry to study more than what's required. Or normal. "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. It makes the drinker seem as though they are in a coma."

The hate filled gaze persisted. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"Stomach of a goat", Harry replied just as unenthusiastically. Hermione dropped her hand once again, looking at him as though he snatched her favorite chocolate from her hands.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are the same plant", Harry answered without shifting his stare from those dispassionate eyes. "It also goes by the name of aconite".

The rest of the class were altering their glances between the professor and Harry, as though they were witnessing a tennis match, waiting for someone to break first.

"Adequate, Potter", Snape twisted on his heels but paused his steps when he reached the front of the classroom. "And of what famous potion is aconite an ingredient of? And what does that potion do?"

This time, Hermione didn't raise her hand, appearing utterly disappointed at not knowing something that the professor deemed important.

"Wolfsbane potion", Harry narrowed his eyes as a triumphant look entered Snape's eyes. "It helps werewolves to retain their mental faculties after transformation."

"Of course, you would know. Wouldn't you?"

The moment Snape uttered those words, Harry's mental inhibitions shattered under the anger that was raging within him. He would have disregarded any slight towards him but at Remus? And that too in front of a class full of students which might lead to Remus losing the only job he ever loved? That's unforgivable in Harry's eyes.

Harry loosened his posture, uncaring of any manners or classroom discipline. "Indeed, Professor Snape. First rule of magic. Always be the smartest guy in the room."

There were few gasps and muted whispers at his statement and Snape gritted his teeth, conflicted between putting Harry in his place by losing his composure or considering that it was not an insult directed at him. Snape took one more look at the students and it seemed that he chose to maintain his composure.

Things didn't improve as the class progressed. Snape set them to prepare a simple potion to cure boils and quelling his annoyance, Harry began to work on his potion. Snape wasted no effort on subtlety and began criticizing the students for every simple mistake and it was obvious that Harry took the brunt of all that displeasure. It was as though Snape was berating other students just to justify the fact that he was tormenting Harry.

"Tut, tut – seems like you let your mouth do all the talking, Potter", Snape scoffed as he reached their desk once again. Harry bit his cheek hard to not let out any more snide comments. "Just like your father. Even he used to strut around, bragging about his skills. But it didn't do him any good in the end, did it?"

Harry crushed the snake fangs he was holding in his hands and looking at the fury on his friend's face, Terry sighed in resignation. "Dead for a purpose is much better than alive without reason".

This time, it was clear to anyone listening that indeed, it was implied as an insult.

"You impudent brat", Snape lunged forward and unfortunately for the professor, Harry's instincts kicked in the moment he sensed danger.

In an instant, Harry slid to the side and banged his fist on the desk beside him and just as Snape's concentration shifted to the desk at the sudden sound, Harry placed the fuming cauldron in his place. It was one of the fundamental tricks of misdirection. Shift the focus of the audience by displaying something unusual and when they lose their concentration, perform the trick and Voila!

Everything happened in an instant. Snape, unable to abruptly halt his motion, jerked forward and instead of his hands wrapping themselves around a scrawny body, they plunged into the fuming potion. One moment of frightening silence and then, Snape screamed as skin peeled off his pink shaded hand due to the heat of the boiling potion and then staring at the horrid state of the professor's hands, the rest of the students shrieked in fright.

"I'm so sorry!" Harry yelled as he stepped forward when Professor Snape backed away from the cauldron in pain and it was just his luck that he accidentally stepped on Snape's abnormally long cloak.

Losing his balance at the sudden tug from his cloak, Snape stumbled backward before he hit the desk behind him and slid down to the floor.

It was terrifyingly unfortunate that the desk was Neville's, who was not famous for his prodigious potion skills. Neville's cauldron, which was hissing and bubbling with acid green smoke shook as the desk jerked when Snape collided with it and in an incident that would scar their young minds for eternity, the cauldron fell from the desk and onto the vulnerable form of Professor Snape.

Harry watched with abject horror as the scary cauldron hit Snape on the head and orange colored sludge dripped from the cauldron to land of Snape's greasy hair. Angry red boils sprang up all over Snape's face and his midnight black hair turned a blinding orange as it soaked in the potion.

"Someone alert the Hospital wing!" Harry yelled as he slung his bag and rushed out of the classroom to notify Remus about this accident. Harry only hoped that he wouldn't be expelled by the end of the day. God, how much could even occur in a single day?

A terrifying lot, apparently.

* * *

In the girl's bathroom on the second floor, a slick blond haired boy stood in front of a sink. Taking advantage of the chaos among the students after what happened in potions classroom, he slipped from the group of students speculating about the fate of Harry Potter and dashed to the bathroom.

In his hands was a black leather bound diary but while Draco Malfoy was pale by complexion, he appeared even paler at the moment. But what could have given anyone a clue that this was not Draco Malfoy was not the deathly pale complexion or the extremely rigid posture.

It was the crimson eyes that flashed in place of the usual gray.

With a hiss, the sink slid into the floor to reveal a pipe large enough to fit an average adult and at the sight of the pipe, a smirk appeared on the boy's face.

"And thus, the world is lost in despair."

With the ominous statement, the boy slid down the pipe and as the boy disappeared, the sink rose to once again meet the mirror stuck to the wall. It was as though nothing had ever happened here. How deceiving.

* * *

 **Level 1, Ministry for magic and Support staff**

Cornelius Fudge was delightfully sipping at his coffee, enjoying the peace of his office while his undersecretary sat in front of his desk, holding a stack of parchments as she waited for him to sign them. Tough luck.

A moment later, the doors burst open, startling Fudge so much that he spilled his coffee onto his expensive robes and an apprehensive Madame Bones entered while rubbing at her forehead.

The fact that the usually composed Amelia Bones was apprehensive meant that shit hit the fan but the two people in the office were too stupid to grasp that.

"Minister, I have grave news", Amelia eyed the fat lump of human meat with disdain but there was only so much she could do to the Minister of Magic.

"What's so urgent, Amelia?" Fudge grumbled as he sipped his coffee again, still feeling grumpy for the spoiling his robes.

"Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban".

Fudge spit the coffee he was drinking onto the toad-like face of her undersecretary in shock. "I am sorry, Dolores", Fudge was not really feeling sorry but a little apology could go a long way. Or so they say.

"It's fine, Minister", Dolores simpered as she swabbed the coffee with her napkin. Amelia felt inclined to point out that they could use something known as magic to vanish the liquid but then she doubted whether the woman could even hold her wand correctly.

"What do you think we should do, Minister?" Amelia asked, enjoying the way the fool trembled like a cat backed into a corner, with sweat coating his forehead.

"Well...well, er", Fudge stuttered but was rescued by his despicable undersecretary.

"When posed with such immense danger, we should not consider it lightly, Minister", Dolores spoke in her sickly sweet tone that made Amelia want to strangle her. "I say we should release the Dementors."

"Yes, Dementors!" Fudge parroted triumphantly.

"But Minister, it reached my ears that Sirius Black was heading towards Hogwarts. Surely, we should not put children in such danger of dementors", Amelia narrowed her eyes slightly to accentuate her grave tone and Fudge shuddered in his seat.

"Then it's even more crucial that we send the Dementors, Minister", Dolores fake gasped as she hid her mouth behind her plump fingers. "Sirius Black will be more of a danger than dementors could ever be. And they are ministry controlled dementors. We have no fear of them going rogue", she continued as though everything made perfect sense.

"Are you saying that dementors will care enough whether it's Sirius Black or a doomed first year?" Amelia felt her brain cells dying painfully the longer she stayed here.

"This will show Dumbledore who is in control", Dolores whispered conspiratorially and that was all it took for Fudge to shake his head like a bull lost in a flea market.

"Yes. This is my final decision, Amelia. Place Dementors at Hogwarts until Sirius Black is found."

Never in her life did Amelia ever feel the urge to purposefully break the rules and regulations to kill two imbeciles. It's sad that she couldn't boast about it anymore.

* * *

Harry walked beside Professor McGonagall to the Headmaster's office, silently praying to all gods that it was not for reasons he feared. "Before I lose the chance, I am sorry for what happened in the classroom, Professor McGonagall. If I had any idea that the cat was you, I wouldn't even have tried anything."

"So, you have no problems with harming other animals?" McGonagall cocked an eyebrow. "Or Professors, as it seems to be the case."

"You have no idea how much I regret my actions. It was not my intention to harm any person", Harry lamented with a sigh. "Or even cats", he added for good measure.

"I only wish that you won't repeat these actions, Mr. Potter."

"Promise that you'll forgive me if I do not harm any more animals?" Harry halted to turn towards Professor McGonagall, with those huge green eyes, appearing every bit like a child who secretly ate chocolate and was caught.

McGonagall once again lost herself in those green eyes, but this time, she was reminded of a red-haired girl who displayed such similar innocence and warmth in her emerald green eyes that everything seemed okay as long as those eyes were bright. "I promise, Li...Mr. Potter."

"Yay!" Harry cheered, unmindful of the slip and skipped ahead.

They ended their stroll as they reached an ugly and extremely large stone Gargoyle. "Lemon Drop!"

If Harry ever had the unbearable urge to steal something wicked, he would make sure to visit Dumbledore's office. It was a large and circular room, with a number of curious silver instruments standing on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames.

But what caught Harry's interest in this paradise of thieves was a shabby, tattered wizard hat. "Hello, Harry Potter. What a pleasant surprise! I was hoping..."

The hat was rudely interrupted as Harry forced a card into the tear that acted as a mouth. The hat gagged, as though something got stuck in its throat but knowing that it was inanimate, Harry did not feel any pity.

"What was that, Harry!" the hat shouted once it regained its voice. Harry believed without a doubt that the hat was faking. Hat's didn't have a gag reflex, did they?

"Your one-way ticket to wonderland", Harry replied with a shrug. If he could teleport Prof McGonagall, then he could obviously teleport a hat.

"Then you could have informed me before assaulting me", the hat grumbled.

Harry's reply was cut off by a strange gagging noise behind him and he turned around to see a decrepit looking bird that resembled a chicken suffering with extreme hair fall. Even as he watched, couple more feathers fell out of its tail and fascinated by this strange creature, Harry ignored the grumpy hat in favor of scrutinizing the bird.

Its eyes were lifeless and feeling sad at seeing such a magnificent bird suffer, Harry decided to make its last moments joyful. He took out a card from his pocket and the bird watched curiously as he waved the card in front of its eyes. With a click of his fingers, the card vanished and the bird tilted its head in confusion.

Harry placed his hand on its tail and from the tail, appeared his card. The bird teetered as it released a chuckle that sounded rather like a choke. Oh, well. Should he try his hand at something more dangerous?

He placed the card on his palm and what he was hoping for was that the card would get engulfed in flames in a bright display but remain unharmed. But the magic he pushed into the card had adverse effects and it launched from his hand like a missile and tore a hole through the portrait of a sleeping headmaster and embedded itself into the portrait.

"Oh, God!" Harry held his palm to his forehead as the remaining headmasters and headmistresses shrieked in terror, yelling about some person named, 'Phineas Nigellus Black' but before someone could point their fingers at him, Harry quickly summoned his card and placed it in his pocket.

The bird fell from its perch as it cackled uproariously and staring at the excitable bird, Harry smiled; Until, the bird burst into flames. It gave one loud shriek of pain or laughter and then the only remaining proof that a bird had ever existed here was ash.

This day would go down in history as the most chaotic and harmful day in Harry Potter's life. It was as though his presence was enough to blow up cities.

The office door opened and Dumbledore strolled in, looking sober.

"I didn't do it!" Harry yelled, pointing his finger at the ash near his feet. His luck must have been dying a painful death, engulfed in flames and potions.

"About time". To Harry's astonishment, Dumbledore smiled. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to move on."

"You don't sound too sad about it", Harry pointed out with a frown.

"Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him..."

Harry looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It looked as frail and ugly as the old one. "It sounds poetic", Harry agreed neutrally.

"Indeed. It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

Dumbledore sat on the throne-like chair behind the desk, reminding Harry that it was time for business. To be honest, Harry was immensely relieved that Dumbledore did not notice the lacerated portrait. Or maybe Dumbledore thought that he had enough crimes in his list to attempt to add another.

"So, Harry. It has reached my notice that your first day had been rather eventful", Dumbledore stared at him with those piercing blue eyes. "Anything you want to comment upon that?"

"Entirely unintentional series of events", Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying his best to not squirm under the heavy gaze.

"Professor Snape seemed very inclined to disagree", Dumbledore stroked his beard while his blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. Harry had to blink to make sure that he was not imagining it. "He was rather fervent in his claims that you must be severely punished for your actions."

"I am amazed that he was able to even speak after what happened", Harry furrowed his brows in thought as he pondered over how Snape managed it.

"His gestures were considerably wild to assume that he was not happy with the situation", Dumbledore stifled a chuckle with a cough as he remembered how Severus looked. Needless to say that the Potions master was not happy to find out that Dumbledore could laugh without breathing for a minute.

"Oh", Harry nodded as realization dawned upon him. "But I stand by my claims. Those were not preplanned actions."

"Yes, I gathered that much from what Minerva told me", Dumbledore popped what looked like some type of candy into his mouth. He then offered the bowl to Harry, who happily took a few into his hand but paused to look at Dumbledore, who was beaming that finally, someone accepted his treats. Although Harry suspected that the smile might be strained considering how many of those Harry took into his hands. "But even you must agree that everything couldn't have happened without any action on your part, Harry. But do not fret, my boy. I don't blame you."

"I am really sor...what?" Harry blinked owlishly as the words reached him. "You don't blame me?"

"No, I don't", Dumbledore smiled that twinkly-eyed smile once again. "But you must promise that such a thing won't happen again. Can you do that, Harry?"

"Yes..." Harry began excitedly but paused when he realized how much of a lie that would be. "I am not sure, Professor."

"I don't understand the reason for your reluctance, my boy", Dumbledore peered over his glasses to stare sternly at Harry.

"It's just that this school...no, this wizarding world is not what I expected it to be", Harry sighed as he leaned forward. "When people have such a wonderful thing called magic, I don't understand why they still choose to live such normal lives. It's as though they don't realize what power they have or they don't cherish it. I mean, some people can't even wonder at such miracle, Professor.

"The first time I realized I have this power was a moment I will never forget in my life. But seeing the people mindlessly waving their wands or lifelessly moving in the corridors makes me so angry that they are just disregarding the greatest thing they have. It makes me want to show them what they are simply ignoring. So, I don't think I can ever be normal, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair while Harry regained his breath after speaking for so long. For the first time, the old wizard watched the boy in a new light and contemplated what his further actions should be.

Meanwhile, Harry was berating himself for ranting all of his thoughts to the Headmaster but it felt good to finally get it out of his system. If Harry had his way then everything would be different. More chaotic but definitely more beautiful. He would see to it that this place would change and if they wouldn't, then he would rattle the very foundations to watch it happen.

After all, as wise people proclaimed, 'Be the change you want to see in the world.'

He desired the world to be chaotic and so he would be. So chaotic that no one could even trace his steps or anticipate his actions.

"I've come to a conclusion, Harry", Dumbledore cleared his throat as though he was passing a death sentence. "You will serve detention on every Saturday night for the whole month."

"That's all?" Harry couldn't help but blurt out. He was expecting an expulsion or detention every day for a whole year.

Dumbledore nodded with a throaty chuckle. "Yes, that's all."

Harry was about to get out of his chair when another question struck his mind. "Then with whom should I serve my detention?"

'Please don't let it be Snape', Harry iterated, again and again, hoping that if he said it enough times then it would happen.

"Why, with me, of course."

Harry choked on his lemon drop.

* * *

 **Author's Note: And thus it happened. Review?**


	9. Chasing Trouble

**Some of the reviewers pointed out that I did not elucidate the transition from Slytherin – scheming Harry to Ravenclaw – cheerful Harry.**

 **It has happened during the time he spent with Remus but the plot has progressed too far for me to write that arc again. So, I will write a simple paragraph in Remus's point of view to just provide an idea. That's all I can do, for now.**

 **Disclaimer: It is the paths before you that determine how much you have accomplished.**

 **I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Remus watched with a detached sense of amusement as Harry ducked behind his friend Terry to elude the gaze of Daphne Greengrass. Even in class, their antics never ceased to amuse him and their larks were inconspicuous enough that he did not reprimand any of them.

Remus was actually glad to see that Harry was indulging in such silly antics. There was a time when Remus feared that Harry might turn out as a less grumpy version of Snape. Considering that Remus had seen Harry a year ago, his apprehension was justified.

In a way, Harry was like a small child. The children cling to their mothers and duck behind their parent's legs when they meet a new person. They cower under the stern gaze of any stranger and do not waste a moment in shrinking into themselves.

But as they get more comfortable with the person, there would be a difference as clear as night and day between their new behavior and the old one. They become insufferable and it would take a monumental effort to quell their antics.

The green-eyed boy Remus had seen in that alley was worlds apart from the Harry Potter he was seeing now. Sometimes it made him wonder just how much change a pack of cards and a loving companionship could bring in a child. In Harry's case, it was astonishing.

But it was a slow process, for it took nearly a year to undo the damage the Dursleys had done to the boy. It was heartbreaking to see when the boy cringed whenever Remus raised his hand to ruffle Harry's hair or the way Harry tried his utmost to shift the conversation from his home life.

Remus was sure that Harry's Slytherin side would lead the boy to greatness but achieving greatness was not synonymous with living a happy and satisfying life. No ten year old should know what killing intent meant and no ten years old should consider his home to be less safe than a werewolf's den.

Shrouded by the silent and scheming persona was an ebullient and intelligent child and Remus was not just a little gratified to know that he was a part of that change.

Well, it was well and good that Harry managed to leave his abused past behind him but Remus only hoped that recklessness was a trait that could have remained hidden. Merlin knows that the boy could do well with a little caution and discipline at times.

A man could wish.

But now, he had a class to take and reminiscing about a certain boy, who was staring relentlessly at a Slytherin girl, would do him no good.

* * *

Harry ran out the class the moment Remus waved them off. Daphne Greengrass could be a worthy friend and an even worthier foe. He had no intention to find out just how accurate he was with that deduction.

He was already a few meters away from the class when he realized that in his hurry, he forgot his bag. With an exasperated shout threatening to overcome his silence, Harry changed his course and bounded towards the class.

Only to come across the girl he was desperately trying to avoid.

He halted a second away from colliding into her and considering that she stepped back in response, his rush did not win him any points. "Miss Greengrass! Good to see you!"

"Hello, Harry Potter," she greeted back and then stared at him expectantly.

"So, um, is there anything I can do for you?" Harry rubbed the back of his head nervously when she did not move from her position.

"Yes. I found this card in my bag. I assumed that it's yours," she explained as she plucked out a card from her bag.

With a gobsmacked expression, Harry took the card into his hands. Though it looked any normal muggle card, it wasn't his. He would have felt a magical thrum if it had possessed even an ounce of his magic.

Just for the sake of convincing her, he shuffled through his deck as though searching for a card. "It does look like one of mine but it isn't."

"Oh," she nodded with indifference. "Since you were staring at me all throughout the class, I thought that..."

A sound that was lost between an embarrassed squeak and an indignant shout escaped his mouth. How could she speak such things with barely any emotion on her face? "No. It isn't mine."

At her placid stare, he continued. "Though I can understand how you reached that conclusion."

"Yes. But what I don't understand is what anyone would achieve by doing this," Daphne replied and though her face was still as blank as a glacier, Harry presumed that she must be confused.

"Clearly, they were hoping to embarrass me," Harry answered with a sigh. There was no doubt regarding who the culprit was. Remus was going to die a painful death. Of that, Harry was sure.

"How is this embarrassing?" This time it was clear from the inclination in her tone and the slight tilt of her head that she was genuinely perplexed.

If only she could show a hint of human emotion, Harry could have explained how embarrassing such an encounter would be for any normal person. Even if he did answer her question, there was no guarantee that she would understand. Well, he could try.

"Maybe they must have thought that I have a…," Harry bunched his fingers into fists, searching for an easy way to say this. "Um, a crush. On you."

So this was how mortification felt like, Harry thought as heat spread to all parts of his body. His face must be resembling a ripened tomato and if his nerves were any indication then he must be suffering from an acute stroke. Falling unconscious would be an easier alternative.

"Why would they think that?" Something akin to a frown appeared on her face.

"I honestly have no idea," he managed to say, albeit with a squeaky voice. Professor Flitwick would be proud.

"Do you have a crush on me?" she blinked, as though that thought itself was foreign to her. Harry could understand.

"No!" Harry never shook his head so violently in his whole life. Merlin! How could she ask these questions so blatantly? People might die when faced with such _mortifying_ situations. And here she was, appearing for all purposes like she was asking directions for the next class.

"Oh." There was that odd tilt to her voice again.

Harry wanted to pull his hair out in frustration as he tried to decipher what must be going on in her head. Was she as embarrassed as he was or was she a being with no emotions whatsoever?

"Then I'll take my leave," she crossed him to reach the corridor, leaving the traitorous card in his hands.

Harry slid down the wall to slump down on the floor and held his flushed face in his palms. He could distinctly hear Remus's howls of laughter echoing in his mind.

 _So embarrassing._

* * *

A few minutes later, Harry found himself ambling down a deserted corridor while brewing a plan that would do the utmost damage, both physically and mentally, to the resident werewolf.

His unfocused gaze was attached to the floor as he thought and hence, he had no idea regarding which corridor he was in. He wouldn't care if he was lost, for getting lost in such an epic castle always led to an adventure.

There was a narrow spiral staircase and with a shrug, he climbed the steps until he reached what seemed to be a classroom. He would've conceded that he had lost his way and turned back to stage a search for the Ravenclaw tower but fate had other plans.

A ladder descended from the trap door above him, landing right at his feet – startling the hell out of him – and down came a thin woman, who had distinct appearance of a gypsy traveling along with a circus.

"You reek of the scent of the grim! The giant spectral dog that haunts churchyards. My dear boy, it is an omen – the worst omen – of death!"

Harry blinked then glanced around, looking for any other person. Sadly, the classroom was empty. "You must have mistaken me for some other person, Professor. I hate dogs, really."

Students piled down after her, descending the ladder one by one and with a few moments, he was surrounded by an entire class. Some of the girls had their hands clapped to their mouths in horror while other were staring at him with pity.

He recognized one of the Ravenclaw seniors who shrugged in apology.

"Can I know what's going on here?" Harry whispered to the senior.

"Divination class. The eccentric woman is Sybil Trelawney, the divination professor. Normally, she predicts the death of at least one person in the first class. I was surprised when there wasn't any but I think you were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Story of my life," Harry mumbled to himself. He had a knack for attracting trouble from every corner of the world. "So, what do you guys do in this class?"

"You know, predicting the future from tea leaves, crystal balls. The crazy things muggles expect from witches. I was just hoping for an easy grade, to be honest."

"Like fortune cards?" Harry shouted in a whisper, with a gleam entering his green irises.

"What?" the senior furrowed his brows. Harry would've taken his time to explain everything he knew but his inner instincts screamed that the tired boy ahead of him wouldn't appreciate it.

"Never mind," Harry waved it off.

"So, see you then, Harry. The class is over, you see," the senior shouldered his bag before joining his friends.

Harry waited until all the students left the class before turning to face the eccentric professor. "Professor Trelawney. By any chance do you know about fortune cards?"

"Why yes, indeed," Sybil righted her huge glasses before staring at him as though he was a human from another planet. "But I left that practice years ago, my dear. Channeling magic into cards was not as easy as I thought."

"You mean like this?" Harry presented his deck to her.

She appeared before him in an instant, with a crazed look on her face. Harry stumbled back in surprise but disregarding his shock, the professor grabbed the deck from his hands.

"This must be fate that led you here today, dear boy." She cradled the cards as though the deck was an infant.

"I doubt it." Harry feared the state of his cards if the professor continued her ministrations. "So, Professor Trelawney. What can you do by channeling magic into it?"

"Yes. Yes. Magic. You see, certain objects have a way to respond to our magic." She spread the cards over a table. "Like how the sediments of tea can form different shapes. Like how crystal balls can show you images. Like how each card is known to possess a certain attribute."

"But they never showed me anything," Harry informed, with envy creeping into his tone. They were his cards, after all.

"Did you ever consider, my boy, why divination is not a famous branch of magic?" She seemed to regain control over her sanity. Now her tone was wistful. "Of course, every person likes to know what their future entails. What plans fate has in store for them. Then why do fewer people practice this art?"

Harry scrunched up his brows in thought. "Maybe it is not reliable?"

"No. No. No. True divination is always reliable," she wiggled her finger. "Prophecies always come true, my dear. Not because they are carved into the future. It is your belief that gives power to prophecies. When fate itself is stuck at the crossroads, prophecies give it a direction. Your actions are what makes a prediction come true. So, then what is it that's keeping witches and wizards all over the world from predicting their lives?"

"Not everyone can do it? Like how muggles can't do magic," Harry answered, with realization dawning onto him.

"Exactly!" she shouted and once again, Harry jumped in fright. She needed to stop with the dramatics. "Seers are rare and true seers are even rarer. My mother was a true seer, you see, and fortunately, I have the blood of a seer running through my veins."

"So, then I can't do anything with these cards?" Harry inquired with disappointment coloring his tone.

"You never know," she answered cryptically before flipping three random cards.

A five of clubs. A jack of spades. A joker.

"I see. Very well," she mumbled to herself.

Harry watched with half-lidded eyes as she continued her mutterings. "I can't see anything!"

"Of course, you can," she retorted in a flippant tone. "You just don't understand what you are seeing."

"Not much difference," Harry tried his best not to pout.

"This means that..." she gestured towards the three cards. "Five days from now, you'll meet a Jack of Black who was once a joker."

Five days. Saturday. He had a detention with the Headmaster on that day. A jack of Black who was once a joker?

"Cryptic answers seems to be a norm here." He piled the cards into a deck. "This sounds awesome."

A sly but delighted smile appeared on Sybil's face. "Indeed."

* * *

Third years students were whispering hurriedly among themselves when Professor McGonagall entered the classroom. 'Didn't they have a Divination class before this?' she thought with a frown crossing her face.

"I hate to ask this but whose death did Professor Trelawney predict this time?" The whispers ceased at her question.

One of the Ravenclaw students answered her question, albeit with a hint of hesitation. "Harry Potter, Professor."

McGonagall dropped the book she was holding. "What!" she yelled and the students in the front row flinched at her tone. She visibly composed herself. "What is Harry Potter doing in _your class_?"

"We don't know, Professor," one of the Gryffindor girls answered, shifting nervously in her seat. "He sort of just appeared there, I think."

McGonagall pinched her nose to abate a rising headache. The boy was either searching for trouble or had the worst possible luck. "So, what happened after that?"

"He stayed back. The last time I saw him, he was discussing something with the professor."

Oh, Merlin! McGonagall rushed into her office. After the incident with Severus, it was apparent that he was a walking hazard to professors. And considering Sybil's queer personality, McGonagall only hoped that she's alive after an encounter with 'the Harry Potter.'

"Sybil!" McGonagall bellowed as she threw floo power into the fire. "Sybil, for Merlin's sake, answer me if you are alive!"

The face of Sybil Trelawney appeared in the fire after a few moments. "What are you so worried about Minerva? I am in the middle of predicting the number of times I will drink firewhisky in the next month."

McGonagall tried her best to not roll her eyes in exasperation. "Are you fine? I heard that you met Harry Potter."

"Yes. An interesting boy, he is." A sly smile graced Sybil's face once again and McGonagall dreaded to think the reason behind that smile. "And yes, I am fine. Though my inner eye says that I might catch a cold this weekend."

This time, McGonagall did roll her eyes. If Sybil still sounded as wacky as ever, then she's fine. With an exhausted sigh, McGonagall ended the Floo connection.

If this continued, she would look as old as Albus in no time.

* * *

Harry had a basic idea about what quidditch was but as his Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff friends prattled on, he realized that a basic idea was not the right term to use. He was clueless...and annoyed.

Madam Hooch's only instruction was to shout 'up!'.

He stared at his decrepit broom with visible contempt. He had no faith in this sweeping piece of garbage. With annoyance radiating in waves around him, he shouted, expecting no results. "Up!"

The broom hit his palm with a smack, easily forming a bruise. He got the feeling that it was being puzzlingly submissive. On his opposite side, Zacharias Smith and Ernie Macmillan were wearing smug grins as they watched their classmates struggle.

Judging by their muted whispers and wild gestures, there seemed to be an intense discussion going on between them. Their conversation or argument only ceased when Justin Fletchley, a muggle born Hufflepuff lost control of his broom and went flying.

Justin's broom jerked violently in the air before hitting the solid stone wall of Hogwarts castle. The drop seemed painful, Harry thought, and if he heard right, there was the distinct creak of a broken bone.

Madam Hooch left to admit Justin in the Hospital wing, with a passing warning for them to stay still until she returned. Not the best time to leave, considering the heated argument between the two proud purebloods of the Hufflepuff house.

A minute later, they seemed to reach a conclusion and they sat on their brooms before rushing into the air. Zacharias was leading their impromptu race and Ernie was tagging behind with a determined expression on his face.

Apparently, the rumor about school brooms wobbling out of control after reaching a certain height were true. As they rose higher, the brooms seemed to tremble beneath their forms and as they swerved wildly to the left, Ernie shrieked in fright.

"Harry! What are you doing?" Susan exclaimed with visible apprehension on her face. "Help them."

His other friends began to stare at him expectantly and Harry threw his hands up in defeat. "From when did I become the savior of this group? Even so, they appear to be having fun," Harry grumbled as he mounted his broom.

Considering the girlish cries that filled the atmosphere, they were definitely not having fun.

As Harry rose into the air, Terry commented with a hint of worry in his tone. "I think he told me that this will be his first time riding a broom."

"What!" Lisa yelled as she lost the grip on her broom. "Why didn't he say so?"

"Um, he's Harry," Hannah reminded with her perpetual blush. It was a testament to his reputation that the single statement answered all of their questions.

Ernie was hanging by a flagpole protruding out of a turret while Zacharias was still screaming as his broom zigzagged, with him clung to it. If only their screams weren't so loud, it would've been funny.

Since Ernie's position seemed to be more precarious, Harry glided over to him first and after a flick of his hand, Ernie was in a free fall to the ground. Harry never knew that a boy could squeal so loud.

Just as Ernie was about to hit the ground, Harry dived over to the boy and caught him before he could break his head. Ernie landed with a soft thud after Harry released his grip and without wasting a moment, Harry zoomed into the air again.

Smith's case was a tough one. He was jerking so wildly that it was hard to know when the boy would lose the hold on his broom.

"Smith! Do you trust me?"

"No!" came the resounding shout.

"This is not the time to be a prat," Harry crossed his arms as he shook his head.

"Don't you dare to act like a jerk now, Harry Potter!" Lisa's threat reached him a moment later.

"Hold my hand," Harry pouted as he held his hand out.

A quivering hand reached out to hold his and after a yank, the boy was free of his homicidal broom but Harry's hand was his only lifeline. Harry felt the broom dip dangerously under their combined weight and with the wind whistling in his ears, mingled with the screams of the other students, Harry dived to the ground once again.

Just as they were about to the reach the group of their classmates, Harry relinquished the hold on Smith's hand and the boy collided with his classmates before they landed in an ungraceful heap. Nothing more than small bruises.

The sudden loss of weight led his broom to accelerate and he grazed the pale green grass on the ground before toppling into the grass with his head supporting the weight of his body. "Mission Success!"

His delighted cheer was lost over the bellow of Professor McGonagall. "HARRY POTTER!"

"Damn!"

"Outrageous! Never in my life…should have expected..."

"I did not hurt anyone!" Harry pleaded his case, mixed with the testimonies of the other students but the Jury was all for sentencing him. "It was the opposite this time."

"That's enough! Follow me. Now," McGonagall's glare made him halt in his tracks. "Mr. Smith and Mr. Finch – Fletchley. What you both did was reckless and foolish. But lucky for you, I cannot determine your punishment. Meet your Head of the House after this class."

Professor McGonagall and a terrified Harry Potter stood before Professor Flitwick's office. Harry remained unnaturally silent, fiddling with his thumbs as he awaited the arrival of Professor Flitwick.

"What happened, Minerva?" Flitwick eyed the nervous boy with raised eyebrows.

"You complained that your team was lacking a chaser," McGonagall smiled thinly. "Is the position still available?"

"Yes, Yes," Flitwick nodded vehemently. "And you recommend Mr. Potter here for the position?"

Harry raised his head for the first time to meet the smiling visages of his two Professors. "I am not getting expelled. Again?"

McGonagall ignored his rhetorical question. "His skills are suited for this position, I believe. I have never seen anything like it. Is this your first time on a broom, Mr. Potter?"

Harry answered with a nod. He decided that the best course of action at the moment was to remain silent and let things have their way.

"He was supporting another boy on a school broom, without losing balance. It was astonishing that those brooms can bear the weight of a single student, let alone two," McGonagall informed, though her tone turned disapproving as she spoke. Harry was simply happy that the displeasure was not directed at him.

"Ever seen a quidditch match, Harry?" Flitwick had a wide grin adorning his face.

"No. But I am sure I can manage," Harry replied, with a matching grin on his face.

* * *

It turned out that Quidditch was not as simple as he thought. Professor Flitwick had introduced him to the team captain and luckily, the Ravenclaw seemed to be laid back kind of guy. The fact that the captain himself was a chaser was an additional bonus.

"So, you need to shoot this ball through one of the three hoops," Carlus Meeks, the captain, said as he pointed at the red, leather-covered ball. "This is a Quaffle and for each correct shot, you get ten points."

"Sounds simple," Harry remarked as he eyed the three goal hoops.

"It's not as easy as it sounds," Carlus warned as he mounted his broom. "There are three chasers in each team and two beaters. The main job of the beaters is to prevent the chasers from passing the Quaffle correctly or shooting a goal."

Harry zoomed into the air, along with the captain and caught hold of the quaffle from the captain. "I'll be the goalkeeper and you throw the ball as fast as you can."

Harry held the ball tightly in his hands. It was surprisingly light. The moment Carlus reached the goal posts, Harry threw the ball with his all his might. It swerved dangerously in the air but to the surprise of the people watching and the goalkeeper, it went straight through the middle hoop.

Carlus blinked in bewilderment. "I think I wasn't ready."

Harry shrugged in response. He was all for playing this for as long as they could. The captain threw the Quaffle to Harry after retrieving it and motioned to throw it again.

This time, Harry zoomed forward and ducked so low that the shot was near impossible. Just as he dipped further, he tilted the broom such that it was parallel to the goalposts and with a swing, he threw the ball again.

The ball seemed to take a huge bend as it reached the hoops and dove below the goalkeeper before going through the hoop. Carlus glanced back at the quaffle that was about to fall to the ground and the first year who was inverted on his broom.

"I think we can establish that either I am not as good at goalkeeping as I thought or you are as good as Professor Flitwick said," Carlus sighed but a smile did manage to escape his leash. "Why don't we try passing the Quaffle to each other for practice. Let me call the other chaser too."

"Jason! Get up here!"

Jason Stretton was another chaser and in a stark contrast to the captain, Jason was a competent and no-nonsense kind of guy. "You are not as bad as I thought, Potter."

"Thanks," Harry muttered in an uncertain tone. Was it a compliment or something that just sounded like one?

"That's a good thing coming from him," Carlus clarified at Harry's frown. "Jason rarely compliments anyone."

"I will try to obstruct your play and you should manage to pass the quaffle to Carl. Is that clear?" Jason already took the position by the time he finished.

"I think so," Harry rolled the ball on his palms and eyed the Jason with a critical eye.

Jason seemed to favor the left side and while his physique was impressive, it was not built for speed. Quick turns or maneuvers might be his cup of tea and if his narrow-eyed stare was any indication, he concentrated hard while the game was on.

But that might be his weakness. For the closer you look, the less you see.

Harry raced forward and did a one-eighty degrees flip, while still holding the quaffle. He threw the Quaffle up into the air and as it rose above the level of the broom, he clapped his hands. The clap echoed through the stadium and a moment later, Carl was holding the quaffle in his hands.

"When did the ball come into my hands?" Carlus shouted in astonishment. "I didn't even see it!"

It seemed that Jason did not share Carl's enthusiasm. "Again!"

Harry caught the quaffle in his hands and stared ahead, scrutinizing the position of his fellow chaser. He swung his right hand in a throwing motion, with his broom staying in the same position. As Jason jerked to the left in instinct, Harry slid to the left. Jason followed his move and swiftly swerved to the left and Harry made another throwing motion with his left hand while shouting loudly for Carlus to catch the ball.

As Jason zoomed forward in an effort to block the pass, he felt the sound of wind whistling beside his ears as the quaffle bolted through the air beside his head.

Carlus caught the ball, with a snicker threatening to escape his mouth. "I don't know how you are doing this, Potter, but your pass seems unstoppable."

Jason narrowed his eyes. "Again!"

Harry acquiesced with the demand and Carlus threw the ball to Harry. This time, just as the ball was about to reach him, Harry darted forward and with a roll of his broom, he shifted the momentum of his spin to the incoming the ball.

With twice the speed of its arrival, it rocketed back towards Carl, who had to fly backward to avoid the force of impact. "Ok, now I have to know. How are you doing this?"

Even Jason made no protests this time and was watching Harry with a hawk-eyed gaze.

"Misdirection," Harry answered proudly.

"What direction?"

"Misdirection. It's the art of distracting people from observing the trick you are about to perform."

"Oh!" Carl punched his fist to his palm in realization. "So that's why you clapped the first time and shouted the second time. And the crazy maneuvers too!"

"That was quick!" Harry widened his eyes in amazement.

"If anyone here has a right to be amazed, it's us," Carl retorted with a mile wide grin stretching his face. "This time the Quidditch Cup is surely ours."

"Not if you slack off for half the time during practice," Jason reminded but even he was smiling. "But we do have a good chance. That Chang girl seems like a good seeker. We have excellent recruits this time."

* * *

"And here I was, thinking that James chasing skills were unrivaled," McGonagall sighed wistfully. "His son seems to have a habit of surpassing all expectations."

Flitwick simply smiled as he watched his three chasers converse amongst each other. "Regretting your chivalry, Minerva? You are the one who brought the boy to me, after all."

"I want a good competition, that's all," McGonagall harrumphed, though her lips thinned even further. "Recognizing the potential of a student is the duty of a professor."

"You don't think that quidditch matches might suffer due to his penchant for trouble?" Flitwick sighed as remembered the chaos his ward had created on the first day itself.

"I wish..." McGonagall was unable to finish as a quaffle shot through the stands, drilling a hole through the wooden framework and then zoomed into the forbidden forest.

"You said that spells don't work on Quidditch balls!" the shout of Harry Potter reached the two Professors, while Carlus was cackling behind an enraged Jason.

"I said 'most of the spells don't work on Quidditch balls'. Not all of them!" Jason roared in return, as he threw his hands into the air.

"Who am I kidding? The kid is a trouble magnet!" McGonagall palmed her face in defeat.

* * *

"You must be the youngest chaser in like...forever," Terry said as he dug into his treacle tart. "If I heard right, it was a century since an eleven-year-old played as a seeker. But I never heard about a first-year chaser."

"Why is that?" Susan, who was seated beside Harry, frowned in response.

"Well, while seekers just have to catch the snitch and escape a few bludgers, a chaser's play is more dangerous and tiring. They have to pass the balls to their teammates, escape from beaters, evade the other chasers and then shoot through the hoop. I forgot, there is a goalkeeper in between.

So, this requires a lot of tactics and even more stamina. The chaser must be in play for the whole game until the seeker catches the snitch. Some quidditch matches go on for weeks. I think the chaser has the hardest job of all," Lisa answered like the dutiful friend she was.

Even now, she was engrossed in a book while occasionally sipping from her goblet of pumpkin juice. She must be the model Ravenclaw, Harry thought.

"It sounds really tough," Hannah remarked with a concerned expression on her face. "Was it that hard, Harry?"

Harry wasted a moment to think and Susan capitalized on that hesitation. "You do know about all these, right?"

"It didn't sound so...demanding," Harry plastered a smile on face to appear convincing.

"You don't have a clue, do you?" Susan shook her head in reproval.

Luckily, their conversation was interrupted by a senior running over to the Ravenclaw table with a frightened expression on his face. "There are dementors outside the castle."

This led to an uproar and in midst of this chaos, Harry called a nearby seventh year. He couldn't see anything out of place but the feeling of dread that engulfed them was palpable. "What are dementors?"

Harry's answer came in the form of a sudden chill that enveloped the whole Great Hall.

* * *

 **Author's Note: The much-awaited update.**

 **So, a chaser. Anybody watched the anime, 'Kuroko no Basket?' You see what I am trying to do here, right?**

 **Next Chapter: Detention with Dumbledore.**


	10. The Other Side

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

For the entire day, the students of Hogwarts witnessed a different side of the exuberant green-eyed boy.

Harry Potter was unusually cranky, with occasional shudders wracking his body and the paleness of his skin rivaled that of Draco Malfoy. His green eyes lost their usual luminescence and the grin that never left his face was replaced by a frown.

Harry hated this sense of foreboding that clung to his mind and even his friends couldn't bring him out of his crestfallen state. While the dementor induced chill did dampen the spirits of most of the students, no one was more affected than Harry Potter and, it was evident.

"What class do we have now?" Harry released an exhausted sigh, as though uttering that single sentence consumed all of his energy.

Their friends took a moment to glance at each other warily and it was decided that Susan should answer that question. Harry never showed any ire towards any of the girls and the red-headed girl was an exception to even the rare annoyance.

"Potions," Susan mumbled while biting her lip in an effort to not voice any of her concerns.

"Oh, save me from this cruel world, Terry!" Harry lamented and rested his head on Terry's shoulder while circling his arms around the brown haired boy.

The despondent atmosphere made him clingy and Terry was suffering the brunt of this new side to Harry Potter.

Their Hufflepuff friends made way to their defense class, with Harry reaching out to their disappearing forms in misery – "For Merlin's sake! They are just going to their class, Harry," Lisa yelled out in frustration.

The rest of the students eyed the hunched form of Harry Potter with visible apprehension and when Snape sauntered into the classroom, they held their breaths.

But to their relief and slight disappointment, the class went on without a hitch.

Until Snape caught Harry while helping a distressed Neville.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Potter!"

All the movements in the classroom ceased. "Can I know why, Professor Snape?"

"Everybody should work on their own. I don't remember asking you to show off, Potter," Snape sneered.

There were still orange wisps of hair concealed behind Snape's greasy black hair and his face still resembled a carrot from certain angles. While Harry would never enjoy the suffering of another person, he was still feeling fairly accomplished due to the potions accident.

"I was hoping to avoid another mishap, Professor. You know how dangerous a potions accident can be," Harry retorted with an air of innocence.

Terry threw his head back in exasperation while Lisa gently placed her cutting knife on the table. It wouldn't take a genius to perceive that this confrontation wouldn't end well.

"Ten points for your cheek, Potter!" Snape snapped in anger.

Harry was about to fire another snark but one look at his classmates and he quelled his annoyance in favor of maintaining the peace. His actions should not affect their education, after all.

Unfortunately, Snape took his silence for submission and Harry had to suffer another hour of Snape's snide remarks. The moment the class was over, Harry rushed out of the classroom and headed directly to the only person who could deal with Snape.

But then, there would always be obstacles in every warrior's path to justice and in this case, it happened to be a gargoyle.

"I don't know the password," Harry iterated for what must be the sixth time. "Who the hell thought that it's a good idea to block the entrance to headmaster's office!"

"One point from Ravenclaw for your language, Mr. Potter," the stern tone of Professor McGonagall reached him.

"As if I didn't lose enough points already," Harry mumbled to himself. "You have the habit of appearing at the right time, Professor McGonagall."

"Flattery wouldn't win you any points," McGonagall stated as matter of fact. Harry shrugged; It was worth an effort. "So, what brings you to the Headmaster's office, Mr. Potter?"

"I want to complain," Harry answered like it was the most obvious thing to do.

McGonagall was about to admonish him – for headmasters were not present to listen to any student's petulant whines – but then she concluded that if Harry Potter was concerned, then things might not be as simple as they seem.

"As far as complaints go, on what level of importance do you rate it?" McGonagall inquired after deciding that acting diplomatic was the best course of action.

"A seven out of ten?" Harry replied after a moment of thought.

"Then, all I can say is, 'Licorice wands!'"

The gargoyle opened with a distinct grating noise and, to his surprise, Prof. McGonagall followed him.

As it turned out, Snape was already waiting in the Headmaster's office.

"Minerva. And Harry!" Albus greeted with a wide smile. "What brings you to my office today?"

"I am not able to get a proper education at Hogwarts," Harry cut to the chase with all the subtlety of a botched potion.

"That's a serious concern, Harry," Dumbledore steepled his fingers as he rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, appearing grave as he stared ahead. "Care to elaborate?"

"Professor Snape is biased towards me for no reason I know of," Harry ignored the way Snape bristled at the comment. "His remarks are hurtful and his actions are demotivating."

Harry had to pat himself on the back for preparing a speech in case it was needed. Words have power, after all.

"And what do you have to say about that, Severus?" Dumbledore asked as he shifted his piercing blue-eyed stare to the potions master.

"The brat is clearly lying. If anything, he must be glad that I am still willing to teach after what happened," Snape pursed his lips in contempt.

"See!" Harry shouted triumphantly. "Is that how a professor should talk to a student?"

"I agree with Mr. Potter," Dumbledore spoke as he stroked his lengthy beard.

"He should have been expelled for what he did. And now, he gets to complain?" Snape interrupted with a snarl.

"It was an accident," Harry reminded dryly. "And I am serving detention with the Headmaster for that."

"With the Headmaster?" Snape scoffed.

"Why, Severus, you doubt my ability to discipline my students?" Dumbledore's tone sounded soft but his words could have cut through stone.

Snape was effectively silenced.

"From what I hear, this is but a simple issue. Before you enter the class, leave all of your preconceptions at the door," Dumbledore might have said 'both' but his gaze was locked onto Snape. "So, can I believe that there will be no more accusations from here on?"

"I can make no promises," Snape answered, with a scowl attached to his pale face.

"Oh for the love of Merlin! Stop complaining, Severus. You are not a kid," McGonagall, who remained silent until now, lashed out.

"If he can't, then even I can't." This time, Harry did pout as he crossed his hands across his chest.

"If I may, I have a solution, Albus," McGonagall broke the silence, with a glare directed at the resident Potions master.

"Pray tell, Minerva."

"Since the problem is only with a single student, I believe we can let Madam Pomfrey teach potions to Mr. Potter," McGonagall voiced out. "Only if she accepts, of course."

Dumbledore chose to remain silent as he observed the people in his office. With a sigh, Dumbledore spoke. "Then what if other student follow suit, Minerva? We can't burden Poppy, after all. She already has enough to deal with, as it is."

"Then we should doubt Professor Snape's aptitude for teaching," McGonagall figuratively set her foot down.

A billow of a cloak and then Snape was out of the door.

"I doubt this is the first time anyone complained against a professor," Harry pointed out with a frown.

"You'd be surprised," was McGonagall's only answer.

* * *

This discussion continued as Harry sat for lunch, with his four friends surrounding him.

"Man, either you are really lucky or we are doing something wrong," Terry commented after Harry explained his current arrangement with Madam Pomfrey.

"So, you guys never complained about Snape?" Harry asked a nearby senior.

"Well, we figured that there ain't much we can do about it, ya know?" he replied with a shrug. "And with us, he isn't as bad as you guys say. He must have a grudge against you or something."

"Gee, I wonder why" Terry muttered sarcastically. "He practically dropped a cauldron on Snape's head. Nobody had potions classes for a week after that."

"But he was like that before the incident even happened," Lisa reminded with her fork pointed at Terry.

Harry could tell his friends that this animosity came from the fact that Snape was bullied by his father but that would lead to another round of questions and his acquaintance with Remus would be made public knowledge. Some other time, then.

"Well, at least this story had a happy ending," Hannah remarked dreamily and became the recipient of four deadpan stares. "What? I see everything as a fairy tale. Big deal."

Susan patted Hannah on the head while others laughed. Then suddenly, another chill passed through the castle and Harry shuddered like a dried leaf in the wind.

"Harry, are you alright?" Susan pressed her palm to Harry's forehead and to her distress, his forehead was burning.

"You have a fever!" Susan shouted in a whisper. "Let's go to the hospital wing."

"I will be going to the hospital wing, eventually," Harry tried to smile but all he managed was a grimace.

"Do you know why it's happening?" Lisa whispered, as though she was afraid that somebody was going to eavesdrop.

"I hope to find out."

* * *

As far as detentions go, this one must be fairly unconventional. While this was the first detention Harry was experiencing in the wizarding world, he was certain that any detention shouldn't consist of the professor and the student sitting on a ledge while pleasantly gazing out into the grounds.

"I hear that you are the chaser of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Well done, Harry," Dumbledore praised while taking a sip of the chocolate tea he was drinking.

"Thanks, Professor."

"But the circumstances which led to your selection are even more admirable than the selection itself," Dumbledore continued as though he had not heard what Harry said. "It takes real courage to do what you did, my boy."

"Peer pressure," Harry informed with a shrug. "Lisa would have killed me if I hadn't done that."

"Oh?" Dumbledore peered over his glasses. "So, you wouldn't have saved your classmates if you friends hadn't forced you?"

"Of course, I would have," Harry answered with indignation. "But I would have waited for some more time."

"I see. And why is that?"

Harry shifted his gaze from the Hogwarts grounds to meet the blue-eyed stare of the Headmaster. "I mean, suppose if I had stopped them the moment they mounted their brooms, they would have never learned their lesson. The more they suffer the consequences of their actions, the more they regret and hence, the less chance on them repeating those actions again."

Dumbledore remained silent, not shifting his gaze from the green-eyed boy.

'The more they suffer, the lesser the chance.'

This statement reminded Dumbledore of the time when he was but a young adult and when he was a lot less forgiving than he was now. His vast experience gathered over the years made him more compassionate – or lenient might be the better word.

He was fed up with the suffering of people and it was what drove him down this path of less aggression and more strategy.

The Dumbledore from a century ago would have craved for vengeance and blood at the sight of injustice. That passion was what led to the slogan, 'For the Greater Good', after all.

A thirst for vengeance born from the suffering of the magical world.

What was the right path? The leniency of this age or the aggression of the past?

A cold chill passed traversed through the castle once again and the boy beside him shuddered violently in response.

Dumbledore frowned. "Are you feeling ill, Harry?"

"No," Harry rattled as he rubbed his shoulders for warmth. "I don't like these dementors very much."

The Dumbledore of the past wouldn't have let this happen, a traitorous part of his mind reminded. "I'm sorry, my boy."

"Why, Professor?" Harry furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Nothing of concern, Harry. But I believe I have a trick to help you with your problem."

"Really?" Harry's eyes lit up.

"Yes, indeed," Dumbledore stifled a chuckle at Harry's enthusiasm. "It's one of the primitive methods to ward off external influences but, it works with the dementors too."

Dumbledore stood from his makeshift seat and his wand appeared in his hand a moment later. "This doesn't require any incantations or wand movements. But you need a lot of focus and magic."

Harry nodded fervently as he watched the tall form of the Headmaster with barely restrained awe.

"You need to accumulate your magic into your wand until it's warm and then release it all at once," Dumbledore instructed as he held out his wand.

Not a second had passed when a large wave of magic rippled through the air and it continued to expand until a dementor in the distance flew further away from the castle. Some of the instruments were ringing incessantly until the Headmaster waved his hand and minute sparkles of energy were still visible in the office.

Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers by the time the effects disappeared. That single burst of magic was more than what Harry had expended during his fight with the dragon. He could tell, for the feeling of magic saturating the room and the hairs standing on his skin were clearly reminiscent of that fight.

"That was awesome!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Your reactions are a breath of fresh air, Harry. Usually, students or people, in general, are intimidated by my very presence. It's good to see that you are not one of them."

Harry rubbed the back of his head as he flushed in embarrassment. "Um, thank you?"

"Can I try it?" Harry requested as he tried not to jump around in excitement.

"Sure, my boy. But do not be disappointed if you fail. It takes some practice to store magic in your wand."

Harry nodded again and then clutched his wand in his hands.

Unlike the Headmaster, Harry was slow at accumulating his magic and 'stop when it gets warm' was not as good of advice as it initially seemed. No matter how many seconds had passed, his wand remained as cold as a street sign in winter.

"I don't think it's working," Harry slouched his shoulders in defeat but his wand still remained in his hand.

"It will, Harry," was Dumbledore's only answer.

He deduced that the Headmaster was being intentionally oblivious to his struggle. Was this a puzzle that Harry had to figure out?

Brute force did work at times and as such, Harry pushed as much magic as he could into the wand. Like a storm on a summer day, warmth sprang to life in his wand. "It's working!"

But as the warmth intensified to reach a searing hotness, Harry panicked. "I can't stop this!"

"Be calm, Harry," Dumbledore pacified with a smile. "You just have to sever the connection, that's all."

But it was like closing a hole in a boat. Before you could find an object to fill it, the water rushes in. Now the heat was high enough to burn his skin. "How?"

"Let me see," Dumbledore began to stroke his beard and Harry had to resist the urge to shout out at the Headmaster. "Release it all at once, Harry."

Not waiting a moment, Harry let the magic out and with a bang like a gunshot, it propelled forward. In reaction, he stumbled backward, only to be caught by the headmaster.

They watched in unison as the ball of magic traveled further out into the sky before dissipating into thin air. It was not unlike a bullet, Harry thought after the vortex of magic disappeared.

"I dare say that this is the first time I have seen it used like that," Dumbledore spoke out after a few seconds.

"A magic gun?" Harry grinned widely. "I love unpredictable experiments."

But the experiment did consume a lot of energy and Harry could see dark spots floating before his eyes. Fawkes, who was hiding in his perch, peeked out its tiny head.

With a tweet, it flew over to Harry before resting on his shoulder. The last time he had seen the bird, it was a baby but, growing up did work in favor of the phoenix.

It was still tiny but the golden-red plumage gave it an exotic feel and it looked a lot better in his opinion. "Hey, Fawkes. Did we scare you?"

It rubbed its beak to Harry's chin and then suddenly, flames engulfed him. One moment, he was sitting on the ledge and the next moment, he was sitting on the chair in front of the desk.

Harry blinked his eyes in surprise. "What just happened?"

"Phoenix travel, Harry," Dumbledore informed with that weird twinkling of his irises. "Phoenixes can take a person to any place in the world."

Woah. "I can see the appeal," Harry muttered absentmindedly as he stroked Fawkes' beak.

But his mind was latched onto one inconspicuous fact. One could teleport within the Hogwarts wards! Apparently, Phoenix travel was not so different from his teleportation. So if a tiny little bird could do it, then he could do it too.

"I believe you are tired," Dumbledore remarked as he occupied the Headmaster's chair. "In the next detention, I might teach you a charm to ward off the dementors themselves."

He could sense a dismissal when he heard one. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

"It's alright, my boy. You gave this old man something to think about."

* * *

The moment he set foot on the steps to the Owlery, a snowy white owl swooped down the stairs to land on his shoulder. "Your sensing skill are improving, Hed."

Hedwig hooted indignantly.

"Of course. I am not doubting your skills. After that Blackjack match? Definitely not."

Once it had happened that Harry was bored out of his mind in his relatives house and invited Hedwig over to a game of Blackjack. It had started with no fare but as the game progressed, Harry realized that his owl might possibly the greatest Blackjack player in the world.

Either her luck was unrivaled or his owl was far too intelligent than what he gave her credit for.

Superior intelligence and awesome card game skills? If she ain't the most desirable girl in the world, then Harry didn't know who was.

"Normally, I try my best to not include any other species in my experiments – cough McGonagall cough. But this time, I might need your help, Hed."

Hedwig tilted her head in response.

"I will never try something that might harm you, you know that, don't you?"

Hedwig bobbed her head. Harry was never more proud of any other bird in his life. After all, it took real courage to willingly participate in his insane experiments.

"All you need to do is to take this card and place it in a safe...very safe…place; somewhere within the Hogwarts grounds. Can you do that, Hed?"

Hedwig plucked the card out of his hand and flew away. He needed to buy more owl treats, Harry realized as he watched the shrinking form of his beloved owl.

"Happy journey!" Harry waved his hand enthusiastically.

Hedwig returned a minute later – during the time which Harry was trying to determine whether leaving a will in place, in case something happened to him, was a good decision or not.

"It's in a safe place, right?"

Hedwig cuffed him with her wings for doubting her.

Taking a deep breath, he teleported, secretly hoping that the term 'safe' meant the same in owl language as it did in English.

* * *

Harry collided into a person the moment he appeared and he rose to his feet in a hurried frenzy. Where the hell was he?

"Lumos!"

The sudden availability of light in the room worked both ways. Just like how Harry could see the stranger, the stranger could see him too.

The man had a gaunt, sunken face, with his waxy skin acting as a cloak over the skull and, long, matted hair framed his head. He appearance reminded Harry of the prison lunatics he had once seen on TV. His gray eyes were dazed, as though he couldn't even perceive what he was seeing and his motions lacked the fluidity any normal person possessed.

"James?" the man croaked, as though it had been a long time since he spoke to anyone.

While Harry was scrutinizing the frail man before him, his mind conjured another piece of information he had known. Professor Trelawney had predicted that he would meet a Jack of Black on this day.

"Black?" Harry called out uncertainly and the man's face lit up like the Sun in summer.

"You know me?"

"Of course, I don't."

That stopped Sirius in his tracks. "What? Then how do you know my name?"

Harry was about to explain about the prophecy he had heard but then thought better of it. "I have no idea."

"Do you know me or don't you have any idea?"

"I have an idea but I don't know who you are."

"You are not making any sense. And coming from me, that's disturbing," Sirius shuddered in mock-horror.

"Are you serious?" Harry widened his eyes in fright. Did he actually go around the bend this time?

"Yes!" Sirius shouted in joy. "I am Sirius. See, you do know me."

"What?"

"I am Sirius," Sirius explained calmly. Considering his circumstances, that was a commendable feat. "Sirius Black."

"Doesn't ring a bell," Harry shook his head and Sirius slumped in disappointment.

"Let's start again. This is really confusing," Harry offered with a smile. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"I'm Sirius. Sirius Black."

"That's one weird name," Harry pointed out with a chuckle.

"Tell me about it. My mom made it her mission to ruin my life."

Silence reigned over the room. Harry utilized this time to rethink his actions. He was talking with a dangerous-looking man, during the night, in a place to which he had unwittingly teleported.

"So, how did you appear here, like out of nowhere?" Sirius tried to appear as innocuous as possible.

"Oh, about that!" Harry scanned the room for any sign of his card. "Did you, by chance, see any playing card in here?"

"You mean, this one?" Sirius took out a card out of his tattered robe pocket. "A white owl gave it to me a minute ago"

Betrayed by his own bird. "That's Hedwig," Harry replied with a sigh. "I think she got the habit of being troublesome from me."

"Oh. So you really have no idea about who I am," Sirius mumbled but his tone gave no inclination whether he was sad or not. "That's good, I think."

Harry remained silent, knowing that Sirius was talking to himself rather than to Harry.

"Now that the news that I've escaped has reached to every corner in Britain, I think you will get to know who I am after a day or so," Sirius chuckled ruefully. "I think this is as good as an opportunity to tell my side of the story."

"What story?"

"Another side to what happened on Halloween, 1981."

"You don't believe me, do you?" was Sirius's first question after he finished recounting the tale.

"I was just a small child at that time," Harry shrugged in response. "I have no option but to believe what I hear."

"That's not how it works," Sirius deadpanned.

"Well, I can't prove whether you are telling the truth or not, Can I?" Harry retorted with a glare.

"You can make me swear an oath," Sirius suggested.

"How do we do it, then?"

"I need a wand for that!" Sirius nearly yelled in frustration. "You should be stupid to give your wand to another person, especially to a prisoner like me."

"I don't mind but you can't use it even if I did," Harry gestured to the wand in his right hand. "This wand doesn't work for all wizards."

"We're back to square one," Sirius threw his hands up in defeat.

"For someone who spent ten years in prison, you are awfully sane," Harry remarked with a twitch of his lips.

"If I had stayed there for another year or two, then..." Sirius began but then another question struck his mind. "So, I do not frighten you?"

"Sometimes, we find ourselves in place we do not deserve," Harry answered, with his head ducked to hide his sadness. After all, even Harry had stayed in a prison for ten years. He was simply not labeled as a prisoner. "So, I don't think you are dangerous just because you escaped from a prison."

"Wow. You are really..."

"Smart?"

"Reckless," Sirius finished with a shake of his head. But a smile was still playing on his lips. "You are taking all of these remarkably well, you know."

"I have some experience." After all, this wasn't the first time he was hearing the story. This tale simply presented a wider picture to what he had already known.

The silence was broken by Sirius's grumbling stomach.

"How many had it been since you've eaten proper food, Sirius?"

"Lost count," Sirius answered flippantly, as though it was of no concern.

"I can bring some food, you know," Harry offered with a hint of worry in his tone. "They provide more food than I can eat, anyway."

"You might get caught," Sirius warned but there was no mistaking the hope in his voice.

"I have an invisibility cloak."

Sirius's eyes widened at that. "You still have that? I thought that James deposited it in some vault."

"Long story," Harry waved it off. "Thinking about it, I think I have another wand."

"Another wand?" Sirius repeated skeptically.

"Yeah. I borrowed it from a nice man," Harry grinned, hoping that it sounded convincing.

"You borrowed a wand from another person?" Sirius howled with laughter. That sound was so different from his raspy voice that even Harry had to chuckle.

"Yes," Harry nodded fervently. "I only asked for a key but he gave me the wand too."

"Long story?"

"Indeed. The man seemed to be rich, so I didn't mind his generosity."

"Rich enough to give away his wand? That sounds like Malfoy," Sirius laughed again but his amusement was cut short when Harry chuckled nervously. "It's not Malfoy, is it?"

"You know him very well?" Harry tried to segue the conversation to a safe area.

"Know him well? That git is related to me," Sirius grit his teeth in anger, not noticing the gleam that entered Harry's eyes.

"You are related?" Harry mumbled to himself. A plan was brewing in his mind. "Are you willing to take a risk, Sirius?"

"Is it going to be fun?" was Sirius's response.

At that moment, Harry knew that he could trust the man with all his heart. For anybody who would willingly participate in Harry's experiments was Harry's friend.

"I have just the plan that includes a wand, a key, and a Vault."

"I think that this plan may have some far-reaching consequences," Sirius remarked as his mind caught up with what Harry was thinking.

"Oh, I certainly hope so."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Ever read 'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn' by Mark Twain? The scene with Sirius reminded me of that.**

 **Sirius still did not tell Harry that he is Harry's Godfather.**


	11. The Curtain Rises

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Learning Potions in the hospital wing was a dull affair.

While Madam Pomfrey was an infinitely compassionate woman, she was not what Harry would consider a 'fun' individual. Her brand of 'fun' might consist of helping a dozen students and mending the bones of one or two rambunctious boys.

All throughout the session, she was watching Harry with a stern gaze, in an imitation of Professor McGonagall – Harry was sure that Professor McGonagall took the first chance to explicate every one of his misadventures to Madam Pomfrey.

But compared to the constant scowl of one greasy haired git, her stern gaze was a blessing from heaven and, Harry was rather cheerful as he brewed a strengthening potion.

Students trickled in once every hour or two and if they were not first years, then Harry was advised to stay as far away from their bed as possible. Not that he minded; He was as lazy as they come when social service was involved.

Her instructions were precise to the point and though a smile did appear on her face every time Harry did something right, her countenance made no reservation for a giggle or a laugh.

The first first-year student came in after the lunch break on one boring Monday and unfortunately for Lavender Brown, Harry had potions with Madam Pomfrey at that time.

Lavender's best friend, a Gryffindor by the name Parvati Patil, accompanied the crying girl and ignoring the two girls, Harry was working on a headache relief potion behind the hospital curtain. So that no one could blame when something inexplicably went wrong.

"What happened, Ms. Patil?" Madam Pomfrey inquired in her no-nonsense tone, seeing that the another girl was too indulged in her crying to answer any questions.

"Um, we were late to our class but then Lavender remembered that she did not put on her facial cream. So, in a hurry, she applied the cream but some of it...um, I think it went into her eyes," Parvati informed with a sheepish giggle.

Harry nearly fell forward, shocked by their stupidity and the desperate need to appear pretty. As such, his hand moved a tiny bit to the right and he calibrated the temperature incorrectly.

Madam Pomfrey put a few cleansing eye drops in Lavender's eyes and her sobs ceased after a moment. "The tears are because of the cream. The tears stopped, so it means there is no more residue in her eyes. So, I believe there are no more problems?"

Parvati hesitated and released another nervous giggle. "You know, she was crying and I think she wasn't able to see clearly. Then she fell down the steps and sprained her ankle."

This time, Madam Pomfrey and Harry simultaneously released a sigh.

After some time, Harry heard footsteps receding and assumed that the girls left. In truth, it was Parvati and Madam Pomfrey walking away from Lavender's bed.

"Madam Pomfrey, she has some self-esteem issues, so, can you please not scold her about this incident?" Parvati requested in a hushed tone so that her friend would not be able to hear it. As a result, even Harry was not able to hear it.

An instant later, Harry commented. "I mean, how stupid one has to be to get facial cream in their eyes _and_ fall down the steps? It's like she was just waiting to get to the hospital wing."

A choked sob reached his ears. Harry inclined his head to his left and watched as tears filled the eyes of one Lavender Brown.

"I was joking!" Harry panicked as he tried to reach her. "Accidents happen, you know. It's entirely natural. Like anything can happen right now and that doesn't mean it's intentional."

The words barely left his mouth when his cauldron foamed to the brim and then with a boom, pink vapor filled their vision. Harry coughed to rid the sickly sweet smell off his nostrils; He should never have left his safe haven.

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand with a tired shake of her head and the vapor vanished from the room.

The anticipatory silence was shattered by Lavender's shrill scream. "My skin!"

"See! Entirely unintentional," Harry chuckled nervously, with a hand rubbing the back of his head.

But Lavender was far too worried by her state to heed his words. A dust of pink covered her entire form but to Harry's eyes, her face appeared no different from usual. It just seemed like she was blushing heavily and, didn't girls have some chemicals for that too? Why the hell was she losing her wits over this?

"What happened?" Harry frowned as he observed her closely. He still couldn't fathom the reason.

"My skin should be a light pink. Now it's cameo pink," she wailed as she tried to rub it off her skin.

"What?" Harry rolled his eyes in response. "I see no difference."

That only made her cry harder. With another sob, Lavender ran out the Hospital. Parvati gave him a chilling glare before she hurried after her friend.

Harry turned to face Madam Pomfrey with a repentant grin. "I'm sorry?"

* * *

Harry was banned from brewing any potions and interacting with any other patients for that day. He sat on an empty bed, reading his first-year potions book or idly staring at the walls.

Madam Pomfrey was busy with a seventh year, who was suffering from magical exhaustion. Harry had no idea what magical exhaustion was, but, it definitely sounded cool. Sadly, he couldn't just walk over to the senior and ask him about it.

Gregory Goyle, a Slytherin first year walked in at that moment and as Madam Pomfrey was busy, she reluctantly assigned Harry to note the symptoms of the first year boy.

"Just _note_ the symptoms," Madam Pomfrey iterated with narrowed eyes.

Harry leaped out of his bed and grabbed a writing pad. Apparently, Goyle's case was not so interesting as according to the obese boy, he was suffering from a mild stomach-ache.

Harry wrote that down and scanned the room for Madam Pomfrey but she was absent.

"She went to collect a potion from Snape," the seventh year answered at Harry's inquisitive gaze.

Seizing the opportunity, Harry sauntered over to the senior's bed. "So, what's magical exhaustion?"

The seventh year raised an eyebrow at the question but answered. "It happens when you deplete all your magical reserves. Like how you won't even have the energy to walk after running a marathon."

"Uh huh," Harry nodded. "What did you do?"

The senior relented with a shrug. "I'm trying to enchant an object that bewitches people with a simple touch; like the confundus charm but with an object instead. It's my charms project for my final year. But it's ridiculously tough."

Harry tilted his head in confusion. "You want to hypnotize people?"

"Hypono...what?"

Harry rolled his head in exasperation. It's tiring, with most of the magical population not knowing basic muggle things. "It's just like what you said. Let me show you."

"What are you going to do?" The senior asked with a hint of wariness in his tone. But there was enough curiosity in there that he wouldn't reject Harry's request.

"I don't know whether this works or not but there are people in the muggle world who can bewitch people by random gestures or weird objects," Harry answered as he took out his card.

"Really?" The senior murmured with a touch of fascination.

"Here, let me try." Before the senior could protest, Harry moved his card like a pendulum in front of the senior's eyes.

" _You_ are only seeing what _you_ want to see. _Imagine_ yourself drifting far away, _because_ you are _free_. _You_ see nothing but what _you_ _want_ to see, you _feel_ nothing but what you want to feel," Harry chanted in a soothing tone.

As the senior's eyes glazed, Harry let a smile show on his face. "Now, stand on the bed and jump."

The senior jerked but remained in his place. He blinked his eyes, with bewilderment flashing across his face but regained his senses a moment later.

"I think I felt something but I don't think that it's the same," the senior remarked with furrowed brows. "What were those words?"

"They are called power words. These words spark your conscious. It's just to distract you," Harry replied with a wave of his hand. "I wasn't sure if it will work, so it's fine."

From the other side of the room, Goyle was watching Harry intently as the green-eyed boy did those weird gestures. When Harry gave the command, he unwittingly stood on his bed with glazed eyes and then jumped onto the table filled with vials.

Madam Pomfrey entered the hospital wing to hear a resounding crash and her eyes instantly latched onto the obese boy, who was moaning in pain.

"Oh, for god's sake, it's just a stomach ache, Goyle," Harry shouted as he grabbed his writing pad once again.

"Clearly, this boy has suicidal tendencies," Harry spoke as he noted the same on the hospital pad.

"HARRY POTTER!"

"This time I didn't even do anything!"

* * *

Harry Potter was, in the most basic of terms, brooding.

He was restricted to a lone corner in the Hospital wing, with nothing but a book in hand. Even his wand was confiscated – the sacrilege! - under the assumption that he might be using it discreetly to his advantage.

If it had been any other person, Harry would've unleashed hell but this was Madam Pomfrey – The kind and caring Hogwarts Matron. So he acquiesced to her demands with a betrayed look.

Goyle was confined to his bed and he was staring at Harry with undiluted fear. Harry had no idea what terrified the boy so much but the atmosphere was peaceful as there was no simple talk between the two occupants. Well, Harry wasn't sure if Goyle could talk even the boy wanted to. Getting drenched in twenty vials of potions would do that to anybody.

The potions class for that afternoon was about to end and Harry was already planning on what to discuss with Sirius. But fate had it that enough people hadn't suffered at the hands of Harry Potter.

Ron Weasely walked in, appearing normal and completely healthy. His gaze fell onto the green-eyed boy sitting in a corner and a grin made its way onto the redhead's face.

"Hey, Harry!"

Harry was under strict order to not converse with anybody unless it's absolutely necessary. So, he remained silent and tried to ignore the redhead.

"Harry, mate. Are you alright?" Ron strolled over to where Harry was sitting and Harry had no choice but to respond.

"Hey, Ron," Harry greeted back.

They weren't on first name basis already but if Ron felt the need then who was Harry to argue. Hell, he would've had more conversations with the reclusive Daphne Greengrass than with the redhead before him.

"So, what are ya doin' here, mate?"

"Reading," Harry pointed at the book in his hands.

Ron appeared scandalized. "You are reading in the _hospital wing_?"

"Sadly, yes," Harry replied glibly. "What brings you here, Ron?"

"I have a headache," Ron informed but the slight twitch of the lips indicated that the redhead was simply looking for a way to slack off.

Harry had heard, from reliable sources, – namely, Hannah Abbot – that Ron Weasely was the laziest person currently residing in Hogwarts. The boy had the attention span of a goldfish and was rude to anybody who wouldn't agree with his views. Though his family was one of the poorest in the wizarding community, they try their best to send their children to school and evidently, Ron was unable to appreciate that fact.

In simple terms, Ron essentially gave Harry all the rights to prank him.

"Is it a mild headache or a recurring one?" Harry played along, suppressing a smirk.

"A recurring one?" Ron answered, with his voice unsure.

"I see," Harry made the act of noting down what the redhead had said.

Harry held the back of his palm to Ron's forehead and then slightly poked at the temples. He then shook the head violently and scrutinized it from one side to the other. He ended the pretense with a bonk to the head.

"The symptoms are very severe, Mr. Weasely," Harry emulated Madam Pomfrey's professional tone. "But I have a way to prolong your lifespan."

" _What?"_ Ron squeaked in an apprehensive tone. "You are joking, right?"

"Sadly, no," Harry shook his head morosely. "Tell me, you have these headaches frequently, right?"

"Um, yes?"

"You have a high temper, I mean, you quickly and easily get angry. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"You get sleepy during classes and can literally sleep anywhere. You snore and if might add, loudly."

"Er...yes?" Ron admitted hesitantly. "But why all these, mate?"

Harry removed his spectacles and pinched his nose. "I am sorry but your brain is shrinking, Ron."

"WHAT!"

"Yes, very shocking, I know," Harry patted Ron's shoulder in an act of comforting the terrified boy. "But all the symptoms point that way."

Harry took out a card and gave it to the panic-stricken boy. While Madam Pomfrey did confiscate his wand, the greatest weapon he had in his arsenal was never his wand.

"So, what color do you see on the card?"

"Red?" Ron answered, peering over his eyebrows to inspect it.

"Look closer, Ron," Harry advised in a whisper. More deceptive words had never been spoken.

Ron held the card at an inch away from his face and before his own eyes, it changed to black. He dropped the card in fright and Harry calmly grabbed the card out of the air. "It changed to black!"

"It never changed, Ron," Harry lied as he pocketed his card.

"Then.."

"Yes. Those are the symptoms. First, you start losing your pets..."

"Scabbers!"

"Yes..whatever. First, you start losing your pets and then you start losing your vision."

Harry held back a sob and wiped the corners of his eyes. "I am sorry, Ron, but you don't have much time to live. A year or two, at most."

Harry returned his spectacles to his nose and by the time his vision adjusted, Ron Weasely was sprawled over the bed. Apparently, the boy fainted out of shock.

"That was way too easy," Harry rolled his eyes and as he went back to reading his textbook, Madam Pomfrey entered the hospital wing.

'Does she wait outside until I'm in trouble?' Harry mused with a frown. 'She has impeccable timing of appearing exactly after I had done something

…just like Professor McGonagall.'

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey gritted out.

"Oh, come one, Poppy. That kid was asking for it!" Harry pouted as he slumped down in his chair. "You can at least laugh, you know."

* * *

"And that poor boy fainted!" Poppy laughed uproariously while McGonagall watched with an amused smile.

"So, I guess the first day was a success?" McGonagall held back a triumphant smile.

"I wouldn't say that it's a success but that boy brings some change to that gloomy room," Poppy admitted as she released yet another giggle. "I only hope that every day won't be like this."

"Don't worry," McGonagall waved off her concerns. "It just takes some time for Harry to get used to what's normal. After that, he is a good kid."

" _Harry?_ " Poppy repeated with an incline of her lips. "Don't tell me you're softening up on the resident troublemaker, Minerva."

"Oh, hush you!" McGonagall retorted. "The last thing that boy needs from us is an encouragement."

That sobered up the hospital matron. "That's true."

* * *

"The elves in the kitchen are scary," Harry remarked with a shudder.

"I think the word you are looking for is kind and generous and unbelievably awesome," Sirius added as he ravaged a chicken drumstick. "Why, when I was at Hogwarts, we marauders used to go to the kitchen every night."

"That amount of food may seem normal to a group. They blackmailed me by saying that they will inform about this to the Headmaster if I didn't eat."

"That doesn't sound like them," Sirius replied with a frown. "What did you do?"

"I refused to eat," Harry answered, with his head ducked.

Sirius gasped. "That's blasphemy! You never refuse the food."

"You should have mentioned that before you sent me to the kitchens!" Harry retorted angrily. "I think I ate enough food to last for a whole week."

"House elves aside, how's the plan coming?"

"It's solid but we need some more credibility," Harry informed as he took a seat on the dusty floor. "Preferably a Malfoy."

"There's a method," Sirius spoke after a minute. "Do you know about the polyjuice potion?"

"Yes," Harry replied as he scrunched up his brows in thought. "It's used to change your appearance, I think."

"Correct. But it takes a long time to brew. Nearly a month."

"It won't be a problem," Harry grinned as he rubbed his palms together. "The best date for this heist will be Halloween. We have a month in our hands."

"So, that's settled then," Sirius nodded as his gaze settled on the chocolate cake in front of him. He had to stop himself from salivating. "But we need to find a Malfoy."

It didn't take a second for their devious minds to find the solution.

"We found a Malfoy?"

"We found a Malfoy," Harry confirmed with a smirk.

* * *

The next day, Harry was eagerly waiting for an opportunity to obtain some hairs from Draco Malfoy.

By the end of the day, he remained unsuccessful. Draco gave more priority to his appearance than to his life and not a hair was out of place on his gelled head.

Harry teleported into the shrieking shack with a batch of potions and disappointment plastered across his face. The one advantage of being an apprentice to a healer was that he had all the medical potions available for his use. Even though the steady meals did help Sirius in gaining some weight, there were things that mere food couldn't accomplish.

And that was where Harry's recently gained expertise with healing came into effect. He acquired a set of all the potions a man might need from the hospital wing and placed them in front of a terrified Sirius Black.

"I have no choice, do I?" Sirius cringed as he smelled one of the pale liquids. His animagus instincts were not helping.

"I am already annoyed after trailing behind that blond idiot for the whole day," Harry answered with a glare. "It will be easier for you if I don't take this matter into my hands, Padfoot."

The nickname brought a grin to Sirius's face, as though Harry had declared that Sirius was the minister of magic. Closing his eyes shut, Sirius gulped one potion after the other and by the time he reached the last vial, his face resembled the state of the dilapidated shack they were in.

Harry's annoyance was replaced by a distinct fondness for the man and he revealed the chocolate pudding he was hiding.

"You understand me so well!" Sirius faked some tears before grabbing the pudding out of Harry's hands.

"So, what do you think we should do? It's hard to pluck a hair from Malfoy's head without raising any suspicion," Harry sighed in disappointment.

That pudding apparently brought some life to Sirius's face. "I have an idea. You know how much the marauders hated that greasy haired git, right?"

"I can understand your feelings," Harry replied solemnly.

"So we brewed a balding potion to beautify Snape's face."

"Oh, the genius!"

* * *

Harry brought all the ingredients needed the next day and with Sirius instructing him, Harry brewed the potion.

"Want to brew another batch?" Sirius asked as they waited for the potion to cool.

"Some other time," Harry placated. "If Snape has it coming, you will be the first to know."

"I look forward to it."

"Not more than me."

* * *

During the dinner that night, Harry stopped by Draco Malfoy on his way to his seat. "Draco, are you all right? You are looking pale."

"Does it bother you, Potter?" Draco sneered as he turned to face the green-eyed boy.

"No. But it does bother Madam Pomfrey," Harry answered blithely. "She said that you already came to the hospital wing. So, here are the next batch of potions."

Draco snatched the two vials out of Harry's hands. "If tell about this to anybody..."

"Hey! Don't kill the messenger."

* * *

The next morning, a girlish shriek rocked the foundations of Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy ran out of the Ravenclaw common room in a hurry, with wisps of blond hair falling from his head. It took a moment for the students to regain their senses and as laughter filled the room, Harry pocketed one of the stray hairs.

"You think it's the Weasely twins?" Terry asked from Harry's side.

"I can only guess."

* * *

Sirius was brewing the Polyjuice potion while Harry was…

Well, Harry was walking around in the room. It couldn't be considered as walking in the strictest sense, for the charade was lost somewhere between walking and jumping.

Sirius couldn't hold in his curiosity for any longer. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm practicing the Malfoy walk," Harry replied without missing a beat.

"Wh...What?"

"You know, the Malfoys don't walk like normal people. It's like they have to prove, even when walking that they are superior," Harry informed with a shake of his head.

"And that's interesting because?" Sirius retorted with a sigh. He got used to Harry's eccentricities after a few days. He wouldn't say it out loud, but they were amusing and Harry looked like a cute kid when he acted like an adult.

"I am trying to get into this Malfoy persona."

"Act like an insufferable bastard and you will be more than convincing," Sirius replied nonchalantly.

"I'm a perfectionist, Sirius."

' _Cute!_ ' Sirius thought but he did not voice his remarks.

* * *

The day of Halloween arrived early for the residents of Hogwarts and most of them were bustling in a hurry to make some last minute decorations or sending letters to their homes.

In short, it's the perfect atmosphere for Harry to remain inconspicuous.

The classes were as uneventful as usual and when Harry stumbled upon Ron Weasely in the corridor, he shook his head morosely and patted the boy on the back.

"Everything's going to be fine, Ron."

Nobody had seen Ron Weasely for the whole day. Rumor had it that he was last seen in the hospital wing, begging Madam Pomfrey to find a cure. Madam Pomfrey was not sympathetic.

As the night approached, the students were readying themselves for a hearty meal. Everyone except two students.

Harry Potter was on his way to the Divination classroom and Draco Malfoy was heading towards the girl's bathroom on the second floor.

Harry knocked on the door to Sybil Trelawney's office and entered after a moment. The sweet aroma filled his nostrils while tendrils of smoke rose from the rune engraved floor.

"Harry! You came," Sybil smiled widely as he beckoned Harry to sit opposite to her on the Rune circle.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Today, on the day of the Samhain, we offer our magic to our ancestors and bask in their ethereal presence!" Sybil shouted as she poured the red potion in the flask into the rune circle. "And as the boundaries between Earth and Heaven cease to exist, we disappear into the higher realm."

Harry had to applaud her flair for dramatics. "I can't wait to disappear."

"You will, dear boy."

With that promise, she added the last ingredient to the rune circle. As the green liquid filled the grooves of the circle, copper-colored smoke filled the room, obscuring the vision of Professor Trelawney.

As the fog settled, Sybil Trelawney blinked her eyes open to find out that the Harry Potter had truly disappeared.

She pondered over this for a moment and reached a conclusion. "Smoking is _highly_ injurious to health."

* * *

Harry appeared in the shack with Lucius's wand in hand. He presented the wand to Sirius, who took it with trembling hands.

Warmth rushed into Sirius' fingers and with a wave of his hand, he cast a vanishing charm. All the dust and grime in the room coalesced in the middle, before vanishing within a blink of an eye.

"This is the best Halloween present that I've ever received," Sirius declared with a wolfish grin.

"Put it to good use, then."

"Oh, I'll be sure to," Sirius promised before apparating to Diagon Alley with one of Harry's cards in his robe pocket.

Harry teleported after drinking the vile polyjuice potion, inwardly muttering curses as he tried to gulp it down.

Diagon Alley was immersed in festivities and as such, when a hooded man roamed amongst them, they paid no heed. It was quite common to act mysterious on Halloween.

Harry Potter, disguised as Draco Malfoy, trailed behind the hooded man. Once they entered Gringotts, Sirius removed his hood and it was a testament to Sirius's appearance that no one recognized him at first glance. Potions could work miracles.

Sirius sauntered over to the teller and placed the key on the desk. "I want to access the Malfoy vault."

The Goblin glanced up from the stack of sickles on his desk. "Sirius Black!"

At once, all the people in the Gringotts main hall shifted their glances to the brown haired handsome man, donned in neat robes. A few women shrieked in terror, while most of the wizards stumbled back in fright. "It's the murderer! You-know-who's right-hand man!"

'Woah. Sirius is really famous,' Harry wondered as panic bubbled over in the room.

"How many years has it been since I've heard the wizarding population's pathetic screams!" Sirius cackled, in a perfect imitation of his cousin Bellatrix. When people scrambled away, he had to suppress an exasperated sigh. These magical people were afraid of literally everything.

"But today, I am with my nephew Draco and I don't want to ruin his fun," Sirius patted Harry on the shoulder. "So, teller, take me to the Malfoy Vault."

"We need some confirmation," The teller informed bravely.

"I have dear Lucius's wand," Sirius brandished the sleek black wand. "Is it enough of a confirmation or do I have to spill some blood to prove that I am Sirius Black?"

It was fortunate that this was not the teller who witnessed Lucius's ordeal on that fateful day and hence, the teller had no idea that the wand was stolen. Goblins hated gossips and as such, only a few people were aware of those facts.

"That will be sufficient," the Goblin nodded with a toothy snarl. "Your escort will be here within a moment."

"So, I hope I won't have any grievances with the service," Sirius began in a conversational tone. "I hate to be interrupted by puny ministry officials."

"The Goblin nation is independent of the ministry," the Goblin informed proudly. "The ministry has no power as long as you are within the confines of the bank."

"Oh, I have no worries," Sirius spoke loud enough to attract the attention of all the terrified people in the bank. "Lucius has enough hold over the ministry that he won't let any harm fall over his relative. Am I right, dear nephew?"

"Yes," Harry snarled at a nearby wizard who tried to inch farther away. "Father is very serious about your protection, Uncle Siri. The Malfoys take care of their family."

"Spoken like a true Malfoy," Sirius smirked condescendingly at the goblin escort. "I know my way clear enough to the Malfoy vault that I don't need an escort. But well, it's your bank."

"Uncle Siri! I would rather do my shopping than waste my time on such menial tasks," Harry huffed before doing a clear imitation of a Malfoy walk as he strolled out of the bank.

The people stared at the retreating back of Harry before shifting their gazes to Sirius. "My nephew is such a drama queen," Sirius rolled his eyes before trailing after the escort.

Just as Sirius disappeared into the tunnels, one of the wizards ran out of Gringotts and shouted to the whole Alley. "Sirius Black is in Gringotts! Contact the Aurors!"

Harry rolled his eyes. These people were so predictable.

Harry could have accompanied Sirius but Goblins had an ingenious way to dispelling all the disguises. The thief's downfall would dispel Harry's disguise.

So, Harry decided that he would rather take the risk of teleporting directly into the vault.

Sirius entered the vault, suppressing the grin that was threatening to show on his face. He closed the door of the vault after demanding privacy and waited for Harry to appear.

A few seconds later, Harry appeared, with his appearance already reverted to his old self. "Thank god, I wasn't early."

"Be thankful that you didn't appear in some closed vault that wasn't opened in centuries," Sirius joked to relieve the tense atmosphere.

"Been there. Done that," Harry shrugged. "It feels good to rob this place again."

" _Again?"_ Sirius squeaked with wide eyes.

"How did you think I got the invisibility cloak?"

"You mean, _that_ long story? Who would've expected that!" Sirius growled in response.

"Not my fault," Harry raised his hands in defeat. "But we're here, right? Let's not waste any time."

"So, let's do this then!" Sirius let the wolfish grin show on his face as he rubbed his palms in anticipation. "What's the next part of the plan?"

"We rob everything," Harry answered simply.

"Ok. Good," Sirius agreed before the words finally reached his mind. "What? Everything?"

"Never leave a work half done," Harry quoted with an air of wisdom.

"We aren't exactly committing moral deeds to follow ethics, you know," Sirius pointed out. "And where do we store all this wealth?"

"A bottomless bag," Harry answered as he took out a hat from his pocket.

"Good thinking," Sirius praised as he grabbed a handful of galleons.

Just as he was about to drop the galleons into the hat, the hat spoke. "Looking good, Mr. Black."

"Son of a..." Sirius floundered back in surprise and fell onto a stack of galleons. " _What the fuck_! It's the _sorting hat_!"

"Wicked, right?" Harry grinned widely. "What better way to secure your hard stolen money than to store them in a talking hat!"

"Bu, bu.." Sirius stammered in shock. "But it's 'The sorting hat'."

"So?" Harry tilted his head in confusion.

"Wait a minute," Sirius took deep breaths to retain his composure. "Hey, Hat! Do you have the memories of all the four founders implanted into you?"

"No," the hat answered after a moment of thought. "But I think I have some of Godric's trinkets in some corner."

"Can you tell us about the things you see in the minds of innocent little first years?" Sirius inquired with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. No sane man would've agreed, let alone a talking hat.

Sirius was bound to be disappointed. "No, Mr. Black. I am charmed to never reveal the secrets of any student."

"At least, do you have some awesome prank ideas?"

"Not really. But I can sing songs! Why I planned a song for next year's sorting and..."

"A bottomless bag, it is!" Sirius interrupted and then started pushing galleons through the brim of the hat.

"When I requested for an adventure, I didn't have a robbery in my mind, Mr. Potter," the hat commented after some time.

"I don't think you have much choice in this matter," Sirius remarked as his gaze fell on one of the diamond ornaments.

"That true," the hat conceded. "At least this is a change from the routine. One can only talk with a flaming bird for so long."

So, they continued looting the vault, with the hat giving random commentary to pass the time.

"How long does your card have before it runs out of magic?" Sirius inquired after his gaze fell on the rather sizable pile in the corner.

"Few more minutes, at the least," Harry replied with a frown. "I charged it enough that it could last an hour."

Though Harry's teleportation could bypass any wards and literally take him anywhere, it did have some disadvantages.

The most glaring disadvantage was that he couldn't teleport to a place where the card wasn't present. That in itself cut off most of the options.

Another disadvantage was that his cards live off his magic.

There's a reason why he always kept his cards with him. The cards continuously leech his magic and if they didn't have any contact with him for a prolonged time, they would revert back to being normal playing cards; Until they get hold of Harry's magic again.

So, long distance teleportations like the one he just did require a lot of magical energy and hence, he couldn't perform them any more than a few times. And then the card which was in a different location would steadily lose magic until it became useless.

Time and distance were an important factor here. But considering the number of positives, these disadvantages were mere annoyances.

In the end, they managed to empty the vault but Harry left seventeen galleons on the floor.

"Why leave those few galleons?" Sirius asked in a tone filled with intrigue.

"Well, a wand costs seven galleons. And a Gringotts key costs ten galleons. So, I am paying the price."

Sirius didn't know whether to feel immensely proud or utterly stupid. So he settled on, "You are a good boy, Harry."

Harry pocketed the hat. "So, see you in the shack?"

"Sure. Did you bring the invisibility cloak?"

"Yep. Here," Harry took the cloak out of his robe and gave it to Sirius. "Is that it?"

"Oh, my partner in crime!" Sirius cooed as he held the cloak to his chest. "How dearly I have missed you!"

Harry deadpanned as Sirius rained kisses on the cloak. He then attributed it to a side effect after being in the prison for so long and left it at that.

"Be safe, Padfoot," Harry gave a wave of his hand and then teleported to the shrieking shack.

"I won't leave you again, my godson," Sirius mumbled as he watched the spot where Harry previously stood. "It's a promise."

Then as the escort left him after coming out of the tunnel, Sirius donned the invisibility cloak. He didn't know what charms were placed on this cloak but it gifted the user with perfect invisibility. No detection or tracking or summoning charms worked on it and he believed that even the most complex magics wouldn't affect it.

So, when Aurors barricaded the entrance to Gringotts, Sirius did not worry even for a moment and quietly slipped through the gaps.

* * *

Harry strolled through the corridors with a mile-wide grin on his face and a skip to his steps. The plan went flawlessly and no one was harmed.

A day that went with no hitches…

He had no time to finish that thought as he stumbled upon a petrified Mrs. Norris; the cat was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

He was about to bolt from the corridor but it was too late. From either end of the corridor where he stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs. The chatter died abruptly as the people in the front spotted the hanging cat.

"Enemies of the heir, beware. You'll be next, Mudbloods!" Someone shouted from the crowd.

It was Draco Malfoy, who was looking even paler than usual. It seemed as though Death passed through the boy and forgot to return the soul.

If Harry was feeling any guilt for involving Draco in his plan, it dissipated like thin mist. That blond idiot had it coming.

"You!" Argus Filch screeched. "You murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll..."

"Argus!" Dumbledore – as was his habit – appeared out of nowhere.

"Well, I do share a modicum of doubt, Headmaster," Snape smiled thinly. "I did not see Mr. Potter at the Halloween dinner. One can't help but doubt what the boy has been doing during this time."

All eyes flitted over to Harry, but Harry was too busy as he was glaring at Snape. Harry had to inform Sirius that Severus Snape had it coming.

"Even Malfoy was not present at Dinner," Terry came to his rescue. Harry would've hugged him if it wasn't inappropriate at the moment.

"Your obsession with me is frightening, Professor Snape."

"But it doesn't answer the question about what you were doing during the dinner time," Snape retorted with a sneer.

"I was with Professor Trelawney, celebrating Halloween in her office," Harry answered without skipping a beat.

"Yes, it's true," Trelawney concurred. "We were trying to enter the higher realm."

'From where the hell did she appear?' was the prominent thought running through the minds of the students.

'And what the hell is she saying,' was a close second.

"It was eventful, Professor Trelawney," Harry smiled at the wacky professor. "I can't thank you enough for the experience."

"Stop this nonsense," Snape yelled. "You insolent brat! You should..."

Snape was interrupted by an irate Amelia Bones. "What's happening here?"

"Auntie!" Susan squeaked in surprise.

"Hello, Susan," Amelia gave room for a small smile. Then her smile vanished as her gaze fell onto the writing on the wall.

"What brings you here, Amelia?" Dumbledore smiled in his grandfatherly way.

That did not deter Amelia Bones in the slightest. "We have several witnesses saying that they saw Draco Malfoy with Sirius Black at Gringotts."

Several gasps echoed through the corridor and Draco became the center of attention.

"WHAT!"

"Where were you during this night, Mr. Malfoy?" Amelia's glare could have melted stone.

"I..I..I didn't..." Draco stuttered as he tried to come up with an excuse.

"That brat wasn't there for dinner!" Argus Filch accused as he found the target for his anger.

"Let's settle this peacefully," Dumbledore tried to appease the Aurors but no one was willing to listen. This was the most entertainment anyone could ever find at Hogwarts.

"Jenkins! Read the witness file," Amelia ordered in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Witnesses saw a blond haired boy with Sirius Black at precisely seven forty-three in the night. He bore exact resemblance to one Draco Malfoy and even the personality and actions matched the description."

Auror Jenkins gave time for the information to sink in before dropping the bombshell.

"The boy displayed 'The Malfoy Walk' as he strolled out of Gringotts," Auror Jenkins finished in a grave tone.

"It's settled, then," Amelia stated as she strode forward to reach the Malfoy heir. "Mr. Malfoy, we are taking you into custody."

"No, you can't!" Draco Malfoy shouted out in fear. "When my father hears about this..."

"Yeah. You can tell him all about it in prison," Amelia smiled without any hint of warmth. "We are taking him into custody too."

* * *

"It really did have some crazy consequences," Sirius's eyes were as wide as saucers after he heard the latest news from Harry. "Did you take all of this into account when you formed the plan?"

"Not really," Harry answered calmly.

If Sirius had been hearing about this before the heist, he would have been freaking out. But then, it was a success and Harry had a vault full of galleons and ornaments in his pockets.

"You are a convict who escaped from prison and has a death sentence upon his head. I didn't think it can get much worse than that."

"True," Sirius conceded with a shrug.

"And I am the boy-who-lived _and_ a schoolboy. I was never in much risk, to begin with," Harry continued as he rested his head on Sirius's shoulder. "But the whole fiasco with the Malfoys and Aurors? I did expect that such a thing might happen when I saw the Aurors at Gringotts."

"You really are a genius, aren't you?" Sirius smiled fondly as he ruffled Harry's messy hair. "I must be the proudest godfather in the whole world."

"And I must be the proudest god..." Harry began but his words came to an abrupt halt. "WHAT!"

Sirius ran a hand through his hair nervously as Harry turned to face him.

"Er...TA DA?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: I was about to end it at Malfoy's arrest but then, I wanted to end things on a positive and cheerful note. The next chapter might contain a snippet in Lucius's point of view.**

 **This is the longest and most eventful chapter yet. So, I expect only one simple thing from you: Review!**


	12. Into the Mist

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

 **August 27th: The day Lucius was robbed:**

The moment Lucius entered the mansion, with a lackluster gaze and a distinct tiredness to his steps, he was rewarded with the presence of his gorgeous wife. And she was not pleased.

Lucius frequently wondered whether Blacks had the skill to sense when people were in deep shit. It explained how they were successful in making profitable deals and how his wife seemed about ready to chew him out right now.

The thief's bright green eyes and his wife's humiliating words were something he would never forget.

He made sure that the story about the theft never left the confines of Gringotts and grudgingly bribed the goblin teller to carry the secret to the grave. He could have killed the bastard but by then, a few goblins got to know the story. Starting another goblin war was not on his list of priorities at the moment.

The next day, Lucius decided that he would put what had happened behind him and continue with his honorable life. He sat at the breakfast table, in front of his wife – who was ignoring him with expertise. The elf burned the bacon again and as he rose to punish the quivering elf, a thought struck him.

Was this burnt bacon a bad omen? It had happened the previous day, after all, and anyone with an inkling of shame could perceive that it was not the best day of his life.

He flipped open the Daily Prophet and the moment his gaze fell on the article screaming 'Gringotts theft', his face paled dramatically. He only breathed again when he read that it was not the Malfoy vault that was robbed but there was a nagging in his mind that something didn't seem right.

He dared not to ignore it again.

When one of his _friends_ at Gringotts informed him that there were traces of dark lord's magic around the charred head of the dead body, Lucius was wise enough to conclude that his days of inaction were over. The Dark Lord chose to return after ten years and if Lucius continued this lavish lifestyle, then the theft of his wand and Gringotts key would pale in comparison to what the Dark Lord would do.

It seemed that it was time to put the plan involving the cursed diary into action. But school was about to start in a day and Lucius had no option but to reluctantly hand over the diary to Draco. It did not help that the boy already found the diary and was writing in it for some reason.

He hoped that his son was wise enough to perceive the danger and relinquish his hold over the diary to some poor unsuspecting student. When it reached him that Draco was sorted into Ravenclaw, it became clear that his son defied his expectations. And not in a good way.

Narcissa was understandably suspicious when the frequency of Draco's letters decreased but Lucius assured her that it was just her son growing up. A divorce would be a simpler option if Narcissa knew what was happening to their son. He had seen enough Blacks in his life to know that violence flowed in their blood.

* * *

 **November 1st: The day after Halloween:**

So right now, as he stared into the navy blues of the Head Auror Amelia Bones, he wondered where everything went wrong.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you answer to the accusations that you're providing asylum to Sirius Black?" Amelia inquired as she read the file before her.

Yes, something definitely went wrong if people thought that he would house Sirius Black.

"Sirius Black, under no circumstances, is a friend or ally of mine," Lucius managed to hide his disgust at the mere thought. "I am a respected Ministry employee. I am flabbergasted to know that anyone would believe that I aided a criminal."

"You can never expect anything from a Malfoy," a disgruntled looking man remarked from a corner.

Amelia was amused but her face betrayed no emotion. "But is he not a relative of yours? If what is written here is true, then he is your wife's cousin."

"The Malfoys will have to aid every pureblood in Britain and then some more, if you follow that principle, Madam Bones," Lucius drawled with an air of arrogance.

Amelia wasn't delighted. "Then how do you reason Sirius Black's own words that he is currently residing at the Malfoy Manor?"

"As I've already said, he is a criminal. I am certain that a convict's words cannot be considered as a viable proof."

"Your own son was present at the scene, Mr. Malfoy," Amelia retorted in an accomplished tone.

Lucius sighed. Whoever had done it, they considered every possible angle. "Appearances can be deceiving."

"What about the personality then? The simple quirks that prove that the boy was Draco Malfoy."

Lucius closed his eyes to quell his annoyance. He cursed the day his father declared that as Malfoys, they should be a touch above the society. 'The Malfoy Walk' was his father's invention and had the old sot been still living, Lucius would've killed him with his own hands. Again.

"Why would I rob my own Vault?" Lucius sneered in contempt.

He was not foolish enough to store his every knut in Gringotts and, Malfoy Manor in itself was the greatest treasure. But still, a considerable portion of his wealth had been stolen and in his present circumstances, he could no longer bribe every fool in sight.

He doubted that he could indulge in luxuries again. He would become a normal pureblood again; with no money and only traditions.

A Malfoy without riches was like a Snake without fangs or a peacock without feathers. It neither had the lethality nor the grace.

"And if I did, why would I send my son to do it?" he continued in the same derisive tone.

"You can never expect anything from a Malfoy," the man in the corner remarked again.

All the people in the room glanced at the unassuming man with their own varied expressions and then ignored the man in favor of the interrogation.

"But according to the teller at Gringotts, it was indeed your key and wand that was presented at the desk," Amelia spoke in a triumphant tone.

Lucius threw his head back in exasperation. Yes, everything began on that day. If he ever saw the boy again…

"They were stolen from me."

"W _hat?"_ Amelia blinked in surprise.

"I said 'They were stolen from me'," Lucius gritted out in anger. "If you had interrogated further, you would've known that I ordered a new key and bought a new wand. The wand you confiscated from me was the new one."

Amelia gestured to one of the Aurors and the man nodded his confirmation. The blatant shock on Amelia Bones' expression would have been amusing if the joke was not on him.

"I..I see," Amelia lost her composure for a moment. "Do you know who the thief was?"

"It was a green-eyed boy," the venom in Lucius's voice came as no surprise.

"It was a green-eyed boy," Amelia noted down in the file and then looked up in bewilderment. "That's all you know?"

"Exactly," Lucius nodded as he tried to conceal his mortification. "If I had known anymore, I would've caught that wretched boy on my own, wouldn't I?"

"You can never expect anything from a Malfoy," the man in the corner remarked yet again.

This time, everybody stared at the man with evident disbelief. "Wait a minute. Who are you?" Amelia frowned as he tried to remember who the man was. She knew every Auror personally and none of them matched the description.

"Oh. I am just an employee in the education division." the man informed sheepishly. "I was on my way to get some coffee but this seemed interesting enough."

Lucius stared at the flustered man with incredulity. It seemed that everybody in this damn world was out to get him.

* * *

Amelia concealed her smile with a dainty hand. The expression on Lucius's face was worth bearing the indiscipline of the ministry employee.

She had planned on interrogating Lucius Malfoy in one of the Auror cells but Fudge ordered that this interrogation should be conducted in one of his quaint offices. So that Lord Malfoy would not be _uncomfortable_ during the interrogation.

Amelia was eagerly waiting for the day when Fudge would realize that Lucius could no longer bribe him and pay for all the foolish ideas of the minister.

"We have interrogated your son and it seems as though he is missing a part of his memory," Amelia continued as though there was no interruption. "Convenient, don't you think?"

Amelia took no pleasure from the way Lucius curled his fingers into fists.

"It doesn't prove anything, Madam Bones," Lucius answered stiffly. "I believe we still follow the law. Innocent unless proven guilty."

"Yes. We are planning on releasing him soon," Amelia was unperturbed.

Even if Draco Malfoy was proven to be an accomplice in the theft, there would be nothing the Aurors could do. Magical Britain took child protection seriously and Draco Malfoy would simply be left in the care of another individual.

"Then I believe we are finished here," Lucius spoke with vehemence. "I do not see the chances of this interrogation giving any fruitful results. A waste of my time, if anything but."

Amelia withheld a sigh. She hated politics but at the moment, Lucius still held considerable power. There was nothing she could do until she found solid evidence.

But evidence couldn't be found as she was sure that the Malfoys had no part in the theft. There were higher chances of her being the thief than Lucius.

Well, even if they were cleared of all suspicion, Amelia knew from instinct alone that there was something far dangerous brewing in the shadows. If what she had seen on the walls of Hogwarts was any indication then, Draco Malfoy was certainly involved in one crime or the other.

'Now who is this green-eyed boy?'

* * *

Lucius knew that moment he saw his wife's visage that he should search for a good solicitor to file the divorce in his favor.

"What is this I hear that Draco was involved in some elaborate plan?" If looks could kill, he would have been a skewered pile of meat by now.

He would rather face Amelia Bones on any bright day.

* * *

Harry sat at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast that morning, wearing his quidditch jersey while trying to stomach the usual breakfast.

Knowing that Harry was good friends with some of the Hufflepuffs, Jason sent him to judge the competition; the Hufflepuff team. Harry tried to protest that he was not good at spying but Jason was adamant about the decision. All Harry could notice was that the team seemed nervous and it's wouldn't take a genius to guess that. Duh.

Harry was sure that Jason sent him away from the other Ravenclaw players so that he wouldn't destroy the team morale. His flippant remark about falling from fifty feet was not appreciated.

It was the first match of the year, so, the students were reasonably excited and Harry felt that if he had to shake one more hand, then he would throw the quaffle at the audience instead of the hoops.

"Look at the adorable, little chaser!" Angelina Johnson, the chaser of the Gryffindor team, cooed. The other two chasers, Alicia and Katie, were behind her, and they appeared amused at the least.

Adorable _and_ Little? Never had been insulted so many times in a single sentence.

Angelina and Alicia occupied the seats on his either sides while Katie chose to dawdle behind him. "So, surveying the competition, Harry?"

Busted in a single guess. He knew he was not cut out for this thing. "I am simply enjoying the pleasant company of the Hufflepuffs."

"I love it when kids try to act like adults," Alicia pinched his cheeks while Angelina nodded her affirmation. "They look so cute!"

' _Cute?'_ Harry thought in abject horror.

"It will be so hard to play against you when we have our match, Harry," Angelina patted him on his head. Harry tried his best to sink into his seat in embarrassment. "Just imagine a bludger hitting this adorable face..."

"Carlus!" Harry whined petulantly. "The Gryffindors are affecting my morale!"

Carlus glanced up from his seat at the Ravenclaw table. He raised his eyebrows at the three girls surrounding their new chaser and then smirked.

"In a good way or a bad way? I don't see a problem with being surrounded by three girls, Harry."

Harry stared at his teammate with a look of utter betrayal.

The Gryffindor chasers left after a minute of incessant ribbing and by the time they left, Harry was slouched in his seat with a visible blush on his face.

"Harry, are you pouting?" Susan bit her lip to suppress her laughter.

"No," Harry pouted.

* * *

"Mount your brooms, please."

Harry clambered onto his Nimbus two thousand, with his teammates glancing at him with evident concern.

The reason was that while Harry was an exceptional player, they didn't consider the effect the dementors would have on him. The weather was pleasant, though a thin blanket of fog had settled on the grounds; due to the dementors.

While the fog wouldn't affect the game, as the players would be playing high in the air, the dementors were an another case altogether.

The other players could hold their own, as they were barely affected by the cloaked beings but Harry was quivering on his broom. He had to struggle to maintain the hold he had on the wood and the occasional shudder wracked his body at the most inopportune times.

The moment the quaffle rose into the air, Jason zoomed off and Harry had to concentrate on something other than how hard his teeth were chattering. But it seemed that Jason had other plans; which included Harry.

Just as Jason reached the quaffle, he flung it at Harry without much contact and Harry, who was surprised at the sudden maneuver from his teammate, nearly dropped the catch.

 _Lee Jordan was the commentator for the match, with McGonagall watching him closely. "And the Quaffle is immediately taken by Jason – Woah! There's barely any contact there! - It's a pass, folks. It seems that the new chaser, Harry Potter, was not expecting the move. WHAT THE HELL!"_

Harry's mind booted as his fingers grazed the surface of the quaffle and with a spin, he secured the catch. But as he completed the spin, the quaffle was suddenly absent from his hands and the Keeper of the Hufflepuff team, Herbert Fleet barely had any time to react as a quaffle zoomed past his head.

" _GOAL!" Lee shouted in surprise. "Did you see the throw, people? Cause, I sure as hell didn't. That must be the fastest goal I have ever seen. Is Jason Stretton trying to make a point here?"_

"I almost lost the ball!" Harry yelled as Jason neared him.

"But you didn't," Jason shrugged. "We should score as quickly as possible to make the other team lose their confidence."

While Carlus was officially the captain of the team, it was Jason who took the role more seriously. Carlus had no qualms as he conceded that while he was better at forming plans and game plays, Jason was better at leading the team and barking orders. Harry believed that Carlus was simply too lazy to shout at other people all throughout the match.

" _Hufflepuff chaser, Malcolm, seized the ball. A pass to the other chaser, Heidi – what a gorgeous girl she is. On the Ravenclaw team, we have Cho Chang as the seeker and boy, does she glide. I think this proves that every quidditch playing female is hot."_

" _JORDAN!"_

" _Sorry, Professor!"_

" _So, Heidi gracefully escapes a bludger and is she heading towards the hoops? Yes, she is. OH! A good try but blocked by Aldrich, the Ravenclaw Keeper._

 _The quaffle is in Ravenclaw's hold now. Carlus to Jason and back to Carlus again – I sense another goal. Carlus takes a dangerous dive and with a flick of his wrist...Yes, it is! The Ravenclaw scored their second goal."_

"How long do you think before Harry goes crazy?" Terry commented as he eyed his green-eyed friend.

"Another five minutes," Susan answered in an instant.

"Susan! He's our friend," Hannah admonished.

"That's why I at least gave him the benefit of doubt. My first guess was a minute," Susan turned to her friend with a cocked eyebrow. "I thought you are supporting the Hufflepuff team."

"I am," Hannah confirmed with a nod. "But I support Harry, too."

"That doesn't make any sense," Lisa pointed out without shifting her gaze from the ongoing match. Oddly, she was rather interested about Quidditch when she was against anything that didn't provide knowledge.

"Wait!" Terry's shout broke the discussion among his friends. "It's happening."

In the air, Harry decided that he would rather relinquish his meager control over his broom than make his hands suffer. The end result was a series of crazy flips and jerks that made most of the audience sit at the edge of their seats.

" _The Ravenclaw are in the lead with Seventy to twenty. At this time, all the Hufflepuff can do is hope that their seeker, Cedric Diggory, finishes the game quickly._

 _Look at this! It seems that Harry Potter decided to take the offensive and will you look at those maneuvers..."_

Carlus came to the conclusion that they should let Harry go bat-shit crazy and just as Harry passed by him, he threw the quaffle to their newest chaser.

Harry had no idea how the quaffle reached his hands. Taking the risk, he sped over to the hoops and when it seemed that he would try for a goal, the beaters of the Hufflepuff team sent bludgers over.

Harry, widely known for doing the unpredictable, did just that and without slowing his break-neck speed, he went on a collision course with the Keeper. The Hufflepuff keeper sensed the oncoming missile and wisely slid to the side, letting Harry score again.

The game continued, with the seekers still searching in vain for the snitch while the others tried to best to play while dodging the sudden attacks from a sugar-high Harry Potter.

" _What a competitive streak! Harry Potter is everywhere. He's obstructing plays, tackling the chasers, scoring goals..."_

'What the hell am I even doing?' Harry wondered to himself after he nearly collided with the female chaser of the Hufflepuff team. "I'm sorry!"

Somehow, his teammates were fairly impressed by his play when Harry himself was counting the number of fouls he had almost committed. The number was high.

A moment later, the quaffle was in his hands again. The frustrated beaters of the Hufflepuff sent two bludgers his way while a chaser was hurrying in Harry's direction.

Concluding that getting hit by two bludgers would be painful, Harry jumped from his broom and caught the handle with one hand. The two bludgers flew above him harmlessly but the chaser, who was heading in Harry's direction became the unintentional target.

Harry dragged his hand in a wide arc, just as he had done against Carlus during his selection and flung the quaffle with all his might.

Two events happened at once. The bludgers smacked into the Hufflepuff chaser, who fell from his broom, and the quaffle rushed into the hoops without any trouble.

" _Magnificent! I don't know how the hell the quaffle reached the hoops but that definitely seemed cool. A simultaneous dodge and a goal. Seeing Harry Potter play is more arousing that watching Heidi Macavoy."_

" _JORDAN!"_

" _Did I say that out loud? No offense, Heidi. You are the still the apple of my eye."_

" _JORDAN! Not a word out of you."_

" _Sorry, Professor!"_

The Hufflepuff team called for a time out, seeing that one of their chasers was clearly knocked out. Madam Pomfrey made an appearance in the pitch and levitated the heavily injured boy before taking him back to the stands.

The atmosphere was rather somber as the chaser was lifted onto the stretcher and most of the Hufflepuffs were blatantly glaring at Harry.

"What a pleasant weather for the game, right?" Harry remarked to lighten the atmosphere.

A drop of water hit his cheek and a few seconds later, there was a heavy downpour of rainfall. Thirteen deadpan stares were directed his way.

Harry blamed the dementors.

"Um, I can't see," Harry flailed his hands wildly and reached out to the person beside him.

His hands roamed over the lean body of Cho Chang before reaching her face. "Cho, is that you?"

"Of course, it's Cho. She is the only female on your team," Cedric Diggory gritted out in a tone that was brimmed with jealousy.

"Hmm. Your cheeks are warm," Harry commented as he cupped her face.

It appeared to others that Cho Chang was blushing so hard that steam was rising from her face. "I think it's from playing, Harry."

Malcolm looked at Heidi hopefully, with his fingers twitching. "Don't you dare," Heidi warned with a glare.

Malcolm turned to Harry, with a resigned look on his face. "Lucky bastard."

Madam Hooch strolled over to them and promptly cast an impervious charm on Harry's spectacles. Harry continued the charade until Hooch glowered at him.

"What a miracle!" Harry shouted in glee. "I can see again!"

"Stop fooling around, Mr. Potter," Hooch barked as she mounted her broom. "The game will continue."

If his previous predicament resembled a leaf in a wind, his current situation was synonymous to a dry leaf lost in a storm. His broom swerved wildly while the whole world seemed to shift before his eyes.

"Harry, are you alright?" Jason asked with concern laced in his tone.

"I think I can manage for a few minutes," Harry answered as he shook his head. Being disoriented was not a pleasant feeling.

"Ok. Let's complete this as fast as we can," Carlus proposed as he glanced at his ashen-white faced teammate. "Shall we bring your misdirection into play?"

"I don't know," Harry frowned as he pondered over the suggestion. "Wouldn't it be unfair?"

"Well. Even you are at a disadvantage now, aren't you?" Carlus reasoned and Jason nodded his assent.

Before Harry could answer, the quaffle rose into the air again and the three chasers hurried off in different directions. The Hufflepuff got hold of the ball and the new reserve player wisely passed it to his experienced teammate.

One moment, Heidi was anticipating the pass as the quaffle zoomed in her direction and the next moment, the quaffle was in the hands of Carlus, who was clearly flying a few meters away from her. "What the hell!"

" _Did the quaffle just change it's direction in the middle? Cause that's what seemed to happen, people. I think the rain is confusing the players or the winds are too strong._

 _It appears that Carlus wants to pass to his teammate, Jason, and yes…we saw a simple throw from Carlus. Jason moves forward to catch it... IS THAT A GOAL?_

 _How did the quaffle reach the hoops! It seems that the other players are wondering the same thing."_

Harry flew above the other players, trying his hardest to not let the grin show on his face. It was an amazing experience, watching as the other people struggled to comprehend what was happening.

The rainfall and the strong winds blowing in the vicinity were a boon, as nothing could fool a person more than the nature around them; The perfect weapon for misdirection.

As the quaffle appeared in the air again, Harry dived downwards and threw the quaffle in Jason's direction before disappearing into the fog again.

He should applaud the skill of his teammates as it required good instincts and complete confidence in Harry's skill to catch the quaffle when it appeared abruptly in their line of sight. It was as much as his teammate's skill as it was his and, Harry was sure that once the quaffle was in Jason's hands, it would be a goal.

The three chasers met ten minutes later; drenched to the bone and suffering the risk of hypothermia.

"What are the seekers doing?" Carlus complained loudly, so as to be heard in the rain. "This game is going on for so long that I am feeling sleepy even when flying."

"That's because you are a lazy ass, Carl," Jason retorted but he was faring no better. "But I agree with you. The seekers are taking too long."

"What's the score?" Harry shook violently as another cold gale blew in the vicinity.

"We are leading. 180 to 40," Carlus grinned widely as he read the score.

All of them let out low whistles in appreciation. "Another two goals and we won't lose even if they catch the snitch!" Carlus cheered with apparent delight.

"Harry, what's that thing moving in your pocket?" Jason furrowed his brows as he flew closer.

"Eew! Didn't know you hit puberty, Harry," Carlus appeared scandalized at the mere thought.

"What?" Harry scowled as he dug his hand into his pocket and brought out a golden fluttering ball. "This is Cho's practice ball. I don't know how it appeared on the pitch but it's damn annoying."

The other two chasers could only watch in disbelief as the snitch struggled in Harry's hold.

"Harry," Jason spoke calmly but his hands shook as he tried to rein in his temper. "That's the snitch."

"WHAT!" Harry jolted in shock. "This little ball is the snitch? They get one fifty points to catch this stupid ball and we get only ten for each goal? That's unfair!"

" _We see the three Ravenclaw chasers grouping in the air. I believe they are discussing the gameplay, as we can see Jason giving advice to his fellow chaser. Harry Potter seems shocked...I guess he doesn't agree with his teammate."_

"Unfair is you holding the snitch for so long!" Jason yelled as he gave into to his frustration. "For all we know, the game could have been over an hour ago."

"How would I know that this is the snitch? No one told me!"

"Of course, I did," Jason argued. "We discuss this before every quidditch practice session."

"Well, to be fair, Harry is always sleeping at those times," Carlus pointed out hesitantly. "You are the one who always conducted practice at five in the morning."

"So, now it's my fault?" Jason deadpanned at the reasoning.

" _Harry still seems agitated. After his aggressive play today, he does have the right to let out his frustration. I believe they are discussing the seekers and Carlus does seem to support Harry Potter._

 _The competitive streak the new chaser of the Ravenclaw team has is commendable. Even now, I believe he is yearning to continue the game without further ado."_

"Ah, come on. This is getting boring very quickly," Harry whined as he circled around his teammates. "I'll just give this stupid ball to Cho and we'll end the game."

Harry rushed over to where Cho was conversing with Heidi – Ignoring Jason's alarmed shout – and at the sight of him, Cho flew over.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Cho tilted her head in confusion as she stared at his flustered visage.

" _Harry is heading over to the pretty seeker. Do we have a budding young romance here, folks? Oh, Harry, you lucky bastard."_

" _JORDAN! You are banned from commentating again!"_

 _L_ _ee gasped in horror. "So cruel!"_

"Um, so, are you tired?" Harry rubbed the back of his head in anxiety.

"Very," she sighed and brushed her wet hair to the side. "I didn't even see the damn snitch during the game. Merlin knows where it's hiding now."

"Oh," Harry smiled sheepishly. "Let me show you something. It's a surprise."

"What is it?" Cho peered at him with evident curiosity.

Before Harry could present the snitch, he was interrupted by Jason. Without wasting a moment, Jason caught the end of Harry's broom and dragged him back to where Carlus was.

"Hey! It's rude to interrupt a conversation," Harry admonished as he steadied his broom.

"If anyone saw you holding the snitch, then the whole match will be canceled for sabotaging the game," Jason glared at the green-eyed boy.

"Forty-seven," Harry mumbled. "It's the number of fouls I nearly committed today."

"That must be a new record," Carlus awed in amazement.

"That's not the concern here!" Jason palmed his face in exasperation. "We should do this as inconspicuously as possible."

Harry glanced at the thick mist above them. "I think I found the perfect place."

Without any warning, he shot into the mist and just as he was about to release the snitch, he saw blurs of black cloaks surrounding him.

There was a distinct rumble of thunder, a blinding flash of lightning, and then utter silence. Even the winds seemed to halt in terror and then a terrifyingly familiar wave of cold swept over him. The very air froze in front of his eyes, with the coldness clawing at his skin and seeping into his bones. His movements felt constricted, as though he was bound in ropes and his cold breath was confined to his lungs.

A moment later, he was encompassed by nearly a hundred dementors and for his blurred vision, they appeared to be famished.

"You're not here for the snitch, are you?" Harry would have screamed in terror if he had any hope that he would survive.

He dared to brandish his wand, his mind going over the Patronus charm he learned from the headmaster, but then a sudden scream tore through the silence that submerged him; The heart-wrenching screams of a woman.

' _Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!'  
_

' _Stand aside, you silly girl … stand aside, now …'  
_

' _Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead – '_

He lost the grip on his wand and could only watch numbly as it fell down the clouds. The screams were getting louder, raking at his nerves and disorienting his senses. He felt the inexplicable desire to help the woman but deep down, he knew that it was a futile cause.

As the dementors hovered below him, his survival instincts kicked in and he tried to collect the magic in his hands. He had no idea whether this tactic would work without a wand but he had no other choice. The ice coating his fingers melted as warmth rushed into his hands. He waited for the magic in his palm to coalesce and just as dementor inched far too close to comfort, he released it at once.

A resounding gunshot echoed in the silent vicinity and the dementors glided away from his body. The mist surrounding him dissipated, forming a wide circle of clear sky. A ray of sunshine hit his face, drawing a smile from his face but before he could rejoice in his success, a dementor appeared above him.

And then he was free. Falling like a cursed angel from the frozen heavens.

' _Not Harry! Please … have mercy … have mercy …'_

A shrill voice was laughing in the background, the woman was screaming, and then...darkness.

* * *

 **Author's Note: A slow and short update. So, the next update will be on Saturday.**

 **Thank you for all those who Read and Review.**


	13. Mind the Shadows

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

The problem with waking up after being unconscious was that you would have absolutely no idea about what the heck had happened. Especially when the first thing you notice was that you were surrounded by a dozen people.

His rimmed spectacles were missing and as such, the only thing he could see were the vague forms of the students by his bedside. His body ached as though he was dropped from about fifty feet high before getting flattened to the ground.

Oh, wait. That had actually happened.

Whispers raged around him, creating a buzzing noise and the murmurs were grating at his nerves. "I know it's hard to believe but I'm alive."

"And here I was, hoping that we could get a new chaser," Jason's amused voice reached him a moment later.

"And you wonder why players sleep during your 'speeches'," Harry rose suddenly, eliciting gasps from the people around him. "What happened?"

"Nothing significant. You fell from your broom and almost died," came the casual reply from Lisa. Oh, how he loved his sarcastic friend during such times. She was officially the best person to slap the truth onto your face, along with a snarky remark for free.

"I was asking about the match," Harry snapped as he searched for his glasses.

"You idiot!" Lisa smacked him on the back of his head. "You were an inch away from death and you care about the stupid match?"

Jason tried to point out that the match was definitely not 'stupid' but a warning glance from Carlus shut him up.

"Ouch!" Harry winced as he held his head. "You don't hit a person who had a fatal accident! Seriously, Lisa, that's basic hospital etiquette. Who even let this violent girl in?"

"Though I do agree with Mr. Potter here, he does deserve a good beating," Madam Pomfrey arrived with a vial in her hand. "Now, drink this, Mr. Potter."

"What's this for, Poppy?" Harry eyed the vial of red liquid with evident distaste. "Trying to drug me into submission?"

"Hardly. You are suffering from magical exhaustion," Madam Pomfrey informed as he cast diagnostic spells. "Whatever you did up there, it took a lot out of you."

"Wicked!" Harry grinned unrepentantly.

Madam Pomfrey's glare was more than enough to quell his excitement. The rest of the students subtly inched away from the angry matron and Harry drank the entire potion in one gulp as he tried to appease her.

"I mean, it was terrifying," Harry grimaced at the sour taste of the medicine. "I certainly won't recommend it to anyone."

Madam Pomfrey huffed as the others chuckled. "All of you! The patient needs rest," she eyed the mud caked forms of the quidditch players with disapproval.

"Don't worry, we won the game," Carlus informed with a thumbs up.

"So, Cho caught the snitch?"

"Not really. No one found the snitch afterward and Hooch declared that we won after you were shifted to the hospital wing," Jason shrugged, though one could see that he was more than elated. "Normally, the game is not finished until the snitch is caught but obviously, the play can't continue afterward. We win even if they had caught the snitch, anyway."

"I suspect that one of the dementors swallowed it," Carlus stated in a whisper.

"Dementors make good seekers," Harry agreed with a sage nod.

"Enough banter! Out, all of you!" Madam Pomfrey descended upon them like a demon. "I don't want anybody disturbing the patient."

Only when the Quidditch players walked out did he notice how shaken up all of them were. There were barely able to walk straight and the ladies were taking support from their male counterparts. His fall must have been really scary if it was enough to frighten Jason.

To Madam Pomfrey's displeasure, his four best friends stayed behind. Susan and Hannah's eyes were bloodshot, with Hannah clutching Susan's hand like a lifeline. Terry stood with his arms crossed tightly over his chest while Lisa was doing her best to stop fidgeting.

"So, I guess the incident was as not pleasant as my teammates make it out to be," Harry sighed in relief as he finally found his glasses.

"The dementors chased after you even while you were falling," Terry informed with a shiver. "They only stopped the pursuit when a white bird came out of Dumbledore's wand and chased them away. I've never seen him so angry."

"Oh, it was so scary, Harry," Susan was at his side in an instant. "You were just falling from the sky and your cards were like floating around you like an armor. You were so lifeless..."

"Like Snape?" Harry mouthed to Terry.

"Exactly!" Terry mouthed in return, with a grin on his face, as though that everything was right with the world after that revelation.

"Can't you guys be serious for once?" Lisa palmed her face in exasperation.

Harry had the intense urge to make a 'Sirius-serious' joke – An annoying side-effect of being his godson – but refrained from saying anything.

"Did you cast any spell when you were in the air?" Terry deftly ignored Lisa's glare. "There was a sudden glow in the sky after you disappeared."

"It's not a spell, to be honest. I just lost my wand before that and then… Oh my god, my wand!" Harry nearly jumped out of his bed as he scrambled over the bed to find the wand.

"His acting is very good," Hannah commented as Harry continued searching.

Lisa patted Hannah on the head, seeing that Susan was busy helping a frenzied Harry. "Oh, Hannah. What are we going to do with you..."

"He's not acting," Terry felt the need to point out. "He really can't find his wand."

"Are you searching for this?" Remus stood by the door, holding Harry's wand in his hand. "I used a summoning charm after watching it fall down."

"You are a lifesaver, Moony," Harry chuckled as Remus strolled over to the bed.

" _Moony?"_ Lisa repeated incredulously as she alternated between glancing at Remus and Harry.

"I'll explain it later," Harry slid down the bed and scooted closer to Susan. He then proceeded to place his head on her lap and sighed contentedly.

"Eep!" Susan squealed as she flailed her hands in embarrassment. "Harry!"

"You're so warm," Harry mumbled as he curled up like a sleeping kitten.

"I think the medicine lowered his inhibitions," Remus explained as he watched the bashful redhead with an amused smile. "It'll be better if you leave now and come later."

"Sure, Professor Lupin," Lisa agreed as she rose from her seat and gestured to her friends to follow her.

Susan made a move to shift Harry's head to the pillow but he clung to her tighter, with an arm encircling her waist. "Don't go, Susie."

Susan hid her face behind her hands to conceal her mortification, while her friends chuckled at her predicament. Remus took pity on the heavily blushing girl and gently lifted Harry into his arms.

"Thank you, Professor Lupin," Susan mumbled as she ducked her head into her chest and then rushed after her friends.

"Your wand bore no damage but the same can't be said about your broom," Remus scrutinized the boy for any reaction. "It flew into the Whomping Willow and you know the tree is not kind to any intruders."

"Give it a proper burial, Remus," Harry requested with all the seriousness of a soldier. "Every broom in the world should envy my broom's death."

"Harry, you're not making sense," Remus deadpanned.

Harry blinked to rid the fog obscuring his thoughts. "What was I saying?"

"Your broom is destroyed," Remus revealed bluntly, hoping for a reaction this time.

"Huh," Harry nodded. "Where can I get a new one? I don't think Professor Flitwick will be happy to buy another one for me."

"You do know that brooms are expensive, right?" Remus explained with an air of calmness. "It won't do to spend your money haphazardly."

"Well, then I won't spend my money!" Harry declared as though it made perfect sense.

"Harry, I think it will be good if you rest for some time," Remus worried for the state of his ward. He had no idea what potion poppy gave him but it apparently had some peculiar side-effects.

"But I don't want to," Harry whined with his arms crossed across his chest. "I will hear voices again."

"What voices?" Remus frowned as he eyed the green-eyed boy with concern. This was news to him. Harry never mentioned about hearing any voices, even when he was living with his relatives.

"I heard my mother, Remus," The pain in Harry's voice was enough to clear any doubt whether the boy was joking. "She was begging Voldemort to leave me alone."

Remus gulped. This was definitely not going the way he expected. "Did this start happening after the dementor incident?"

Harry nodded in reply, with his gaze distant; as though he was recollecting a painful memory.

"The dementors bring out our most traumatic memories, Harry," Remus pinched his nose to alleviate his displeasure. "That memory must have been hidden deep in the conscious of your mind and the attack just brought that up. But there's no need to be frightened, Harry. It's just our memories shown to us."

"Who said I am frightened?" Harry scoffed at the mere thought. "I heard my mother's voice, Remus! Although the fact that it's her last moments is a bit off putting...but now I know how my mother sounds like!"

Remus stared at Harry with disbelief etched over his features. Then he laughed, inwardly berating himself for even thinking that Harry could ever be depressed. There were not a lot of things in this world that could quell the boy's excitement.

"So, are you staying, Moony?" Harry peered over his glasses to stare intently at the smiling man.

"Of course. What better place to spend your night than in the hospital wing?" Harry scooted to the side to let Remus sleep beside him. "This place sure brings back memories, though."

"Furry little problem?"

"Furry little problem," Remus confirmed as he laid down on the bed.

"Say, Harry?" Remus shifted to the side to stare at the serene visage of Harry. "What's your opinion about the dementors?"

"They are good at Quidditch," Harry answered without skipping a beat.

The devious smile that adorned Harry's face did not reassure Remus in the slightest.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey was torn between discharging Harry out of the hospital wing or letting him stay for the entire weekend. It was clear from previous incidents that being around Harry Potter was not good for the health of the patients – It didn't matter even if he was one.

With a mournful sigh, she advised him to the rest in the hospital wing for the whole weekend.

He escaped an hour later.

So, when Madam Pomfrey gave detention to a student for the first time in her entire career, no one was surprised.

"It's not an accomplishment," Tracey Davis decided to make it clear to the green-eyed boy beside her. "Normally, hospital matrons can't even assign detentions because they are not professors. To even think that you forced her to do it is astonishing in itself."

"I know, right," Harry flashed a winning smile.

" _It's not an accomplishment,"_ Tracey repeated, with exhaustion laced into her tone.

Daphne Greengrass and her friend, Tracey Davis, were peacefully strolling down the corridor to enjoy their weekend when Harry Potter appeared out of nowhere. Literally.

Tracey nearly had a stroke but Daphne calmly stared at him and nodded in greeting. Harry dared not to let the disappointment show on his face.

'Someday,' he promised to himself. 'Someday, I will rattle her enough that she will show an emotion.'

Instead, he shifted his gaze to the new girl, who was still clutching at her chest to slow the rapid beating of her heart. The fact that she was roaming in the corridors with 'The Daphne Greengrass' was enough to spark his curiosity.

Tracey Davis seemed to define everything that Daphne Greengrass was not. While her friend flaunted luscious blond hair, Tracey was a brunette, with her hair chopped up to her chin. Her tanned face was in stark contrast with the pale white of her friend and the brown of her eyes was like the earth while the pale blue eyes of Daphne were like the cloudless sky.

From her reaction alone, Harry could presume that Tracey was someone who had no qualms with displaying her emotions and if her glare was any indication, she did not appreciate such terrifying moments.

"Hello, Miss Greengrass," Harry greeted with his usual smile. "Sorry for the scare but I'm running away from an angry witch."

Tracey righted herself and took a few calming breaths. "You mean Madam Pomfrey?"

"News travels fast in here," Harry stated in surprise. "So, just for the sake of formality, I am Harry Potter."

"It must be nice to never introduce yourself," Tracey assented with an amused smile. "I am Tracey Davis."

"Introductions get boring. Not that I mind but usually boring means awkward."

"Huh," Tracey nodded in understanding and they continued their stroll, with Harry walking between the two girls.

So that brought them to where they were discussing his recent escape from the feared hospital wing.

"Where were you girls going before I interrupted your walk?"

"Oh, Daph and I were just roaming around," Tracey informed as she gestured at the silent girl. "The Slytherin common room is not the best place to hang out during free time."

"Daph?" Harry repeated with a frown before his mind lit up with understanding. "You mean, 'Daphne?'"

At Tracey's nod, Harry turned to face Daphne with a betrayed look. "She gets to call you 'Daph' and I am still stuck with 'Miss Greengrass'?"

"I wouldn't have objected if you did call me 'Daph'," Daphne answered with a shrug.

"How could I have known!" Harry protested weakly, knowing that arguing with the impassive girl was a futile endeavor.

"I didn't know you guys are that close," Tracey intervened, with her stare directed at her best friend.

"Even I didn't know," Daphne replied blandly. "Though he did say once that he doesn't have a crush on me. Does that count?"

"It doesn't," Harry interrupted but the damage was already done.

" _Oh,"_ A sly smile blossomed on Tracey's face. "When did _that_ happen, Daph?"

"I think it's after defense class one day," Daphne scrunched up her brows as she tried to remember. "I found a card in my bag and then I thought it was Potter's because he was staring at me..."

"Yes, yes. It was a prank by someone," Harry interrupted as he aimed for damage control. "And you can call me, 'Harry', you know. It's only fair if I can call you 'Daphne'."

Daphne nodded and to Tracey's disappointment, she stayed silent.

"So, why did you run away from the hospital wing?" Tracey broke the silence after realizing that Daphne was not going to spill any more beans.

"To achieve world peace?" Harry suggested but he broke under Tracey's blank stare. "'Ran away' is putting it crudely. If I was healthy enough to escape then I am healthy enough to be discharged."

"Magical exhaustion is not as scary as it sounds," Harry continued in an accusatory tone.

"Ravenclaw won, right?" Tracey commented and Harry answered with a nod. "Excluding the incident at the end, it was a good match."

"You have an interesting way of playing," Daphne remarked, surprising her two friends. "All throughout the match, it was different from how others play."

"You were watching me all throughout the match?" Harry asked with a teasing grin.

"Yes," came the effortless response.

Harry threw his head back in exasperation. Oh, how stupid was he to even believe that he could melt all the ice in Antarctica?

"Such blunt honesty could kill people," Harry commented to Tracey with a weary smile and then turned to face Daphne. "What do you mean by 'interesting', Daph?"

If she noticed the blatant use of her nickname, she did not react. "I think your method of play depends more on the players of the other team than it does on your teammates. The distraction tactics you use are brilliant and I never knew that one could use such a horrendous weather to their advantage. Though it also depends on how good your teammates could react to your passes or goals, I am amazed by how fast you deduce the strengths and weaknesses of each player at every moment."

Harry could only stare at her open-mouthed as she described his entire playing style. Accurately, at that. "Um, that's...thank you?"

"But I thought that the game ended when you caught the snitch," Daphne continued, ignoring his stupefied gaze. "I don't know much about quidditch but isn't that how it works?"

It took a few precious moments for Harry to answer. Now he understood why Daphne Greengrass was the way she was. Behind that emotionless facade was an unadulterated genius and as far as he had known, geniuses were mostly not social birds. It seemed that all of that effort for showing emotions went into sharpening her mind.

"The seeker should be the one to catch the snitch and if any other player did, then it can be considered as an act of um...yes, sabotaging the game," Harry answered with an embarrassed smile. "Fortunately, no one noticed that I caught the snitch. Well, no one except you, I mean."

"So that was why you...you know, went into the clouds and then..." Tracey gestured wildly, picturing the image of him falling from the sky.

"Yeah. I didn't expect that there will be dementors waiting to greet me," Harry joked. "At first, I..."

"Wait a minute," Tracey interrupted with a lazy wave of her hand. "It's a long story?"

"Somewhat?"

"Then don't bother," Tracey shrugged and then continued her stroll.

Harry stared blankly at the retreating back of Tracey and found the answer he was searching for since he had met the brunette. How on earth were these two best friends?

While Tracey Davis was indeed a stark opposite to Daphne, there was a certain trait to the brunette that solidified their friendship.

Tracey Davis was lazier than the sorting hat – Seriously. The hat's only job for the whole year was to sing a song at the beginning and even then, it sang the same song _every year._ For a thousand years.

Daphne Greengrass couldn't show a reaction to save her life and Tracey Davis was too lazy to bother. It was as simple as it could come and their weird camaraderie was a sight to behold.

"Are the dementors scary?" Daphne asked a moment later, snapping Harry out of his stupor.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say 'scary' but they are not someone I would hang out with when I'm bored," Harry nodded himself, as though he was fairly satisfied with his answer. "Why, Daph?"

"I want to see a dementor," came the reply, with that odd tone of hers that she rarely used.

Harry nearly stumbled on his own foot in shock. "Are we talking about the same dementors?"

Daphne nodded. "I think so."

"Black cloaks?"

A nod.

"Bony hands."

Another nod.

"Decayed body and rotten smell."

Still a nod. For god's sake, say something, you crazy girl.

"There are not very friendly, you know," Harry reasoned with a nervous twitch of his lips. "I am not one to tattle but, In fact, one of them went so far as to give me a kiss. And I've only met them once!"

A blank stare greeted his exclamation.

"Okay, I get it," Harry conceded with a shake of his head. He should have expected that any conversation with Daphne Greengrass wouldn't be a normal affair. "You want to see a dementor up close. I won't ask why."

"See! Even the 'Harry Potter' finds it odd," Tracey admonished Daphne.

"Hey! Why am I the measuring bar for such things?" Harry complained, pointing an accusing finger at Tracey.

"You're not exactly the model student, you know," Tracey justified with a piercing stare.

"True," Harry conceded under the terrifying stare. Why were girls so scary? He would rather take on the dementors on any rain day.

"But I want to see a dementor," Daphne repeated again, paying no heed to the antics of her two friends.

"What a coincidence!" Harry gave an exaggerated wave of his wand, emitting green sparks from the other end. "Ever since the incident, I find myself very curious about those cloaked...um, people?"

"You don't know one bit about the dementors, do you?" Tracey stated with a sigh.

"And hence the curiosity," Harry retorted with another winning smile.

Judging by the resigned expression on Tracey's face, he was pretty sure that his charming smile was working. Or maybe not. It was Sirius who made Harry practice the smile, saying that it would help him out of difficult situations. As of now, Harry had seen no such results.

"Now I understand how you two became friends," Tracey punched her fist to her palm, with an air of enlightenment around her. "Both are just as infuriating to the people around you."

"I like you too, Tracey," Harry skipped ahead and turned to face the both of them. "But let's not change the topic. Daphne wants to see the dementors and as her friend, I support her. Oh, the things I do for my friends."

"You can't just fly over to them and say 'hello'," Tracey pointed out, mostly to Daphne than to him. "We should have a plan."

It seemed that Tracey came to the conclusion that Harry Potter was incorrigible. Harry had to applaud her. His four other friends took two weeks to arrive at the same conclusion. Or it could be Tracey's laziness at work here.

"Even in the direst times, remember these words, my dear friends," Harry proclaimed, doing a commendable impression of the headmaster Dumbledore. After four detentions, Harry was near perfect at imitating the wizened man; Sirius was an avid fan of it.

"Harry Potter always has a plan."

* * *

Harry ordered his new broom through owl order, using the stolen galleons and as usual, he waited on top of the branch of a tree. It was so that the owl wouldn't find him at the worst time possible – In the great hall, with Remus present.

The gigantic birch tree, situated on the bank of the Black lake, became his temporary sanctuary. It had enough branches and thick leaves to block any of the sunlight and the atmosphere was just as pleasant for him to take a nap.

A barn owl interrupted his rest, with its beady brown eyes demanding him to acknowledge it. Harry produced a strip of bacon from his sleeves – Magician 101 – and fed it to the owl, before securing the large package.

He landed at the base of the tree and hid between two huge mossy green roots. Just as he was about to tear open the package, a soft voice reached him. "Is that your new broom?"

Harry nearly lost his footing at the sudden appearance of Daphne Greengrass. So this was how people felt when he did the same to them. "A little warning would have been nice, Daph."

"That's why I spoke before I sat beside you," Daphne mumbled as she adjusted with him in the cramped space.

It didn't help that logic supported her every argument. How could anyone even argue with this girl?

"You are planning on flying over to the dementors?" Daphne watched with fascination as he unwrapped the Nimbus 2000.

"That's the gist of it," Harry had to suppress a chuckle as she did not shift her gaze from the broom. "You want to try this?"

"I admit I am not good at flying," Daphne divulged and Harry assumed that she was disappointed with the fact.

It's tough to read her like he did with every other person, especially when her face was the very definition of the poker face. But as he made the effort to get to know her, it was more amusing than reading any other person. Her personality was like a blank slate; You could assume anything and settle with the emotion that suited the situation.

"But I am," he lurched to his feet and presented a hand to the girl beside him.

"Hey, Harry!" came the shout of Ron Weasely. "Is that your new broom?"

Harry decided that he would no longer antagonize the youngest male Weasely but Ron had the habit of appearing exactly when Harry didn't want him to.

And Harry was not a forgiving person by nature.

"Hello, Ron," Harry's smile seemed genuine from every angle. But that in itself was a danger sign. Harry's smiles always had an underlying sense of mischief, except when he was indulging in said 'mischief.'

"You bought a Nimbus 2000 again?" Jealousy dripped from Ron's voice.

"Again?" Harry frowned as he shifted the broom in his hand. "This is my first broom, Ron."

"But..but," Ron's hand trembled as he gestured at the broom. "But I heard that your old broom was destroyed after the match."

"What! Of course, not," Harry scoffed before his face lit with comprehension. "Oh, Ron. This is what I was afraid of."

"What are you saying, mate?" Ron visibly paled under Harry's pitying gaze.

"The first stage of Hallucination," Harry stated as he pinched his nose. "Your think you heard something when you didn't hear anything."

" _Hallucination!"_ Ron squeaked in terror. "You mean, your broom wasn't destroyed?"

"See, it's completely fine," Harry stroked the length of the broom. "And even if I did buy a new one, why would I buy the same broom again? Obviously, I would have waited for a new model to be launched."

"Right," Ron agreed with the logic before the implications reached him. "Then everything I heard?"

"Is your imagination," Harry sighed as he patted the boy on the shoulder.

"Then Malfoy getting arrested?" Ron inquired with a hope-filled voice.

"Didn't happen," Harry lied. Malfoy was released the previous night and he was at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast this morning. "You saw him in the Great Hall, didn't you?"

"Yes," Ron admitted with a crestfallen look. But once again, hope ignited in his eyes. "Then my detention with Professor McGonagall for being late?"

"Yeah," Harry drawled as he rubbed the back of his head. "That did happen."

Harry would have come clean to the boy and assuaged his worries if not for the way he was glaring at Daphne. If Ron couldn't look past his prejudices, then there was a lot of scope for...practical lessons.

"The symptoms are escalating, Ron," Harry informed in Trewlaney's trademarked grave tone. She was a master at theatrics. "I suggest you meet with Madam Pomfrey and if possible, can you convince her to revoke my detention?"

Ron gave an absentminded nod before trudging back to the castle, with figurative black clouds hovering above him.

"Is he really that stupid?" was Daphne's comment as Harry mounted the broom.

"Let's just agree that I am a good deceiver," Harry stifled a chuckle as she reluctantly stepped towards the broom.

"So, where should I sit, Harry?"

"It's the first time you've called me Harry," Harry pointed out as he slid back. "To celebrate this event, you are going to be in control."

"How is that a celebration?" she argued but gently sat before him. "What if we fall into the Black Lake or smash into the castle walls...or get our souls sucked by dementors?"

"You know what? I am starting to like your honesty," was the only warning Harry gave before the broom shot forward, grazing the brackish waters of the lake.

Even flying at such high speeds, Daphne barely released a squeak and as he pushed the broom to go even faster, she simply held the broom harder.

As they flew over the forbidden forest, Harry dipped the broom downward, swerving wildly to escape the stray branches. Daphne leaned into him, clutching the broom so tightly that Harry could plainly see the nerves slithering down her hand. But even then, she was bravely staring ahead, with not a shift in her expression.

He led the broom into the trees, with the leaves tickling their robe covered bodies. The forest was towering over them and the knobbly branches of the overgrowth were the unwanted obstacles in their path. The broom raced forward in a series of flips and dives and the mighty Nimbus shook under the strain of the perilous flight.

Harry tilted his head to glance at the visage of Daphne and to his utter disappointment and slight amusement, she had her eyes shut. He could notice the wrinkles on her eyebrows as she tried her best to keep her eyes from opening and her lower lip was stuck between her teeth, nearly drawing blood.

Her blond hair was plastered to the lower half of his face due to the ferocious winds and the humidity of their surroundings coated their forms in a thin layer of sweat and moisture.

As they went deeper into the forest, not even a wisp of light managed to pierce the forest and the vicinity was shrouded in darkness. Gazing at the girl before him, Harry perceived the huge branch that cut their path too late and the world passed around in slow motions as he neared the thick wood.

Sliding his hands through the gap between her hand and waist, Harry placed his palms over hers and held the handle of the broom in a vice grip. Straining his muscles, he pulled up and forced his magic to reinforce the stiffness of his arm.

The momentum shifted at the upward tilt of the handle and as it flew over the branch, Harry did not escape the encounter without a scratch. The rough bark of the branch managed to tear the cloth protecting his legs and a bloody gash appeared on the front of his legs.

Harry breathed normally when the sunlight hit his face and only then did he notice that Daphne's back was almost stuck to his chest and she still did not open her eyes. "Daph, Are you alright?"

No response.

"Daph? Daphne?"

There was not a twitch.

"Daphne Greengrass! This is not the time to role play as a block of ice!"

That shout broke her out of her reverie and she blinked slowly, her blue irises widening at the sight of light. He gently loosened her fingers from the handle of the broom and stroked her swollen palms. They were even colder than usual. "Did I scare you too much?"

"Yes. Way too much," Daphne complained as she rubbed her palms together to alleviate the pain.

Harry chuckled. Even though he still did not manage to produce a reaction out of her, he was off to a good start. "What can I say? You are just too composed for me to leave you alone in peace."

"You are being mean, Harry," she stated as a matter of fact.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized sincerely, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his true emotion. "But I didn't do this just to scare you."

"I see," she replied calmly.

Harry rolled his eyes. He was certain that her answer would be the same if he told her that he did this to murder her. "Do you remember the path we took?"

Daphne nodded. It wasn't hard to notice as they left a trail of chaos in their wake. The birds taking rest on the branches were still fluttering around while a cacophony of sounds was emitted by the animals which had their sleep disturbed.

"Now, look at the sky and tell me what you see above the exact path."

Both of them glanced up at the sky to observe that dementors were littered above the exact path they took. "Dementors."

"Yes, dementors," A grin blossomed on his face as he stared at the cloaked beings. "For some reason, they are attracted to my presence. To test whether they could follow me even when they couldn't see me, I flew the broom into the forest but it seems that they can sense me by my magic or something other than that."

"You planned all this?" Daphne whispered, with that odd tilt to her voice again. He had to find out whether she did this only in his presence or if it was her way to providing some indication that she was experiencing an extreme emotion.

"No," Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I kind of winged it when I noticed the dementors in the air."

Her answer came as quite a surprise to him. "You really are a good deceiver."

* * *

 **Author's Note: This was supposed to be another eventful chapter but somewhere along the way, it became an interlude. But do Review your opinion.**

 **I hope I gave enough insight into the characters that are Daphne and Tracey. The next chapter will be similar to 'The Curtain Rises'.**

 **Next update: Wednesday.**


	14. The Right Kind of Wrong

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

After hiding his new broom in his room, Harry limped over to the hospital wing, with blood coating the back of his legs. If things had worked his way, Poppy wouldn't have caught a sniff of him until the next potions class but fate had it that he must suffer at the hands of the enraged matron.

He reluctantly stepped into the hospital wing to notice the glaring absence of Poppy. He did another thorough search and headed over to Poppy's office at the right most corner of the wing.

But before he could barge into the room, he heard a voice that sent a chill down his spine. It seemed that Professor McGonagall deemed that this was the best time to have a chat with Madam Pomfrey. Gulping down the heart that stuck in his throat, Harry swiftly turned his back to the door.

Poppy, he could barely handle. But Poppy _and_ Minerva? He was seven years too young to deal with them without risking his life. He trudged ahead to the exit but his bleeding leg sealed the deal for him.

"Going somewhere, _Harry Potter_?" the sickly sweet voice of Poppy reached him.

Harry slowly twisted on his heels, with his trademarked sheepish grin plastered on his face. "Ah, it's no problem, Poppy. I won't dare to disturb you during break time."

"I'm sure _Madam Pomfrey_ can make time for her student," McGonagall smiled thinly.

"It's nothing!" Harry waved his hands frantically as he stepped back. A droplet of blood dripped down his leg to land on the white tiles of the wing.

"Is that blood?" Poppy rushed over to him and eyed the back of his leg. "You ran away from the hospital wing and then, you come back with a bleeding wound!"

"I couldn't wait to see you until our next class?" Harry tried in vain to mollify the witch who seemed about ready to burn him to a crisp.

"On the bed. Now!" was the reply.

Harry cringed in fear as Poppy glared at him and paying no heed to his injury, he rushed over to an empty bed. "How about we call it a truce?"

The answer came in the form of a sharp twinge of pain that traveled down his legs. "You won't be able to move your legs until I release the spell. So, I suggest that you don't make any further attempts to escape."

" _Vicious!"_ Harry mumbled to himself but at Poppy's scathing look, he nodded hurriedly. "Duly noted."

It was an hour later that Harry gave in to his tendencies and gently moved his leg to check whether the spell was still functional. It wasn't.

Silently, he rose to his feet and inched forward with the finesse of a fox preying on a chicken.

"Nearly an hour. That was more than what I was expecting from you, Mr. Potter."

Sadly, the finesse was futile under the hawkish gaze of the hospital matron.

"I am bored out of my mind," Harry complained as he sighed, sorely disappointed at being caught. He should have known that he couldn't hope for a miracle twice.

"You are completely healed, Mr. Potter," Poppy let out a rare smile. "You have no obligation to remain under my care."

"Really?" Harry must not be blamed for the evident skepticism in his tone. He would vouch against himself if the time ever came, for he knew he deserved it and then some more. Poppy was more than kind to let him out of her clutches after half the things he had done.

"Yes, Harry. You are free to go," Poppy insisted, with the smile still present.

"Okay," he drawled in doubt and took a step back. "Thank you, Poppy."

He should have realized it when she smiled or at least when she used his first name but after an hour of rest, Harry was not in the right mindset to perceive the warning signs blaring around him.

"But you have a detention right now," Poppy continued as though he hadn't interrupted, with her tone taking an aggressive edge. "There's no way in hell that I am letting you out again."

It took a few moments for Harry to realize that he had been deceived. By the hospital matron, no less. But when the realization hit, it arrived with force, and he pointed a quivering finger at Poppy. "I knew it!"

"Don't blame it on me," Poppy huffed with indignation. "I have decided to cancel your detention but then Ron Weasely runs into the hospital wing, crying that he is suffering from hallucinations."

"Oh, what to do with that kid?" Harry lamented with a shake of his head.

"Seriously, Harry?" Poppy slumped in exhaustion. "You fool the boy into believing that he is dying and then he requests me to revoke _your_ _detention._ "

"Brilliant, right?" Harry grinned with a sense of accomplishment.

Poppy visibly shook with rage. "I have half the mind to tie you to the bed until the Headmaster himself comes to the rescue."

Harry was unperturbed. "That's asking a lot from Professor Dumbledore, don't you think, Poppy? I am sure he has many important things to do."

* * *

A few minutes later, Professor McGonagall entered the hospital wing to find Harry Potter bound to the bed, covered from head to toe in bandages.

"Why am I not surprised?" McGonagall whispered to herself as she sat down on the chair beside Harry's bandaged form.

A muffled reply came from the boy, earning an exasperated sigh from the aged Professor.

"I wonder why it's so difficult for you to stay normal, Mr. Potter. That's not asking much, is it?"

Another incomprehensible response.

"I believe that it is to be expected, considering that your father was no better at following rules when he was a student here. Remus's presence certainly doesn't help matters in that regard."

She glanced at Harry, waiting for him to say something but then she noticed the bandages tied around his mouth. If McGonagall had been a schoolgirl, she would have smiled sheepishly but instead, she waved her wand, loosening the bandages around his head.

"I think I can't feel my legs," was his first statement, followed by a sigh of relief when he wriggled his toes and found that his limbs were still intact. "Now that I think about it, it's my arms I can't feel."

"I can guess what happened that resulted in this," McGonagall gestured at his form.

"I want to press charges on the account of abuse," Harry tried to cross his arms across his chest but when he realized that he can't move his hands, he settled with narrowing his eyes.

His stare had no effect whatsoever on Professor McGonagall. "Hospital matrons have the power to take necessary precautions if they find the need. Madam Pomfrey is well within her rights to subject you to any kind of treatment."

What McGonagall said went right over his head. "I suspect power corrupted our kind and caring matron."

McGonagall simply rolled her eyes. "This is the second time you have reported concerns regarding your potions professor."

"I sense a pattern," Harry whispered in horror. "What if the potions position is cursed?"

McGonagall, for her part, tried her best to restrain the urge to smack her forehead but it happened anyway. "We don't want the rumor mill fabricating another theory about how the potions position is cursed."

"True," Harry nodded in contemplation. "So, what are you doing here in the hospital wing, Professor McGonagall?"

'This boy...he has the attention span of a goldfish,' McGonagall thought with a shake of her head. "Why, to check upon you, Mr. Potter."

Harry was surprised for a moment but then a pleasant warmth spread across his chest. McGonagall, who noticed that Harry had suddenly fallen silent let out a small but genuine smile play on her lips. Beneath the mischievous and troublemaker persona, there was a little boy starved for affection.

"So, how are your studies coming along, Mr. Potter?"

"Ah, about that!" Harry eyes abruptly shone with enthusiasm. "I was thinking about how the amount of power we put into the spell affects the transfiguration."

McGonagall blinked in surprise at the sudden question. "Hmm. What kind of transfiguration are you talking about?"

"Like the one we did in class. Turning a matchstick into a needle. So, if I put more power into the spell, can I turn beams of wood into metal bars?"

"Yes, it does work for simple transfiguration like this but the amount of power you need to put into the spell is enormous, in a manner of speaking. But for human or animal transfiguration, the power of the spell is not a deciding factor as much as the intent behind the spell," McGonagall informed before narrowing her eyes at Harry. "I hope you are not delving into the animal or human transfiguration already."

"Not at all," The conviction in his voice seemed to appease McGonagall. "It's just a passing thought."

"Good," McGonagall nodded as she stood up. "Now I am going to relieve you of these bandages. You won't be leaving this place or causing any more trouble, is that clear?"

"Sure, Professor. No leaving the place or causing trouble. I understand."

McGonagall gave one last doubtful glance before waving her wand. Harry let out a cheer as he waggled in his place after the bandages disappeared, forcing McGonagall to stifle a chuckle.

After McGonagall left, Harry leaned on the bedpost as he twirled his wand between his fingers. 'What to do now?'

His gaze fell on the array of hospital beds beside him. A light bulb lit up in his head as his gaze fell on the metal legs of the cot. 'Might as well test the theory I've learned today.'

Pointing his wand at the bed, he made the necessary wand motions for the transfiguration and watched as the metal was slowly replaced by wood. But then the spell was cut off midway and Harry frowned as he felt a sense of fatigue hit him like the Hogwarts train.

He blinked his fatigue away before trying the spell again and this time, the entire metal was replaced by wood but he could see visible cracks spread over the wooden legs. 'So, it is possible but the transfiguration will be weak and lasts for less time. Having a highly efficient wand is like cheating, I guess.'

He nodded to himself before practicing the spell on the other beds. By the time he reached the sixth bed, he was already swaying in his place and within moments, he fell onto the mattress, with his hand hanging limply by his side.

* * *

He woke after what felt like a few hours when he heard a commotion in the hospital wing and he opened his bleary eyes to find the Gryffindor quidditch team stumbling into the hospital wing in exhaustion.

"Which desert did you guys get lost in?" Harry turned to the Weasely twins, who were leaning on each other.

"Our captain is a training nut," answered Fred.

"Calling him a nut is an insult to nuts all over the world, brother," George added.

"Too true, Forge."

"Mr. Wood! What did I tell you last week?" McGonagall appeared once again in the wing but this time her voice was downright murderous.

" _I think I am dying, Gred."  
_

"The situation is not as worse as it looks, Professor!" Oliver shuddered under McGonagall's gaze.

" _Hold on, Forge! The help is just around the corner."_

" _Merlin, I can't see! Gred, this is your hand, right?"_

 _Gred gasped. "It's my leg."_

"Did you by chance forget that there are classes tomorrow?"

" _It has been a beautiful life, Gred"_

" _Healer_ _!_ _Healer_ _! The condition is critical. Red alert! Red alert!"_

"No, Professor McGonagall."

" _I am sorry for leaving you all alone in this cruel world, my less handsome twin."_

" _You are dying a virgin. You should be sorry for yourself, my foolish twin."_

" _Dammit!"_

Madam Pomfrey arrived with an expression on her face that stated just how delighted she was about finding seven dirty quidditch players in the hospital. The players staggered over to the beds and collapsed on them, while Madam Pomfrey muttered to herself in indignation as she prepared strengthening potions for the patients.

Harry got the feeling that he was forgetting something and that feeling only intensified as he heard distinct creaks echo in the wing.

His eyes widened in horror as the realization hit him and he yelled with a sense of terrifying urgency. "Get down from the beds!"

Six resounding thuds filled the hospital wing as the beds broke under the strain and the pained groans of the other students made a shiver run down Harry's spine. Just when he thought that it was over, the seventh bed creaked ominously and Oliver gave a half-shout before the bed gave up its struggle. Harry cringed as the last thud reached his ears while his mind already resigned to the fact that it would be a long time before he would have a day without detention.

A silence that could suffocate people made its presence known in the wing.

"Is it Death I see in the corner of my eyes, Gred?"

"I think it's Professor McGonagall, Forge."

* * *

"There are only two times when the hourglass of any house is empty during a term. Do you know when Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore spoke as though they were discussing the weather.

Harry shook his head in his answer.

"At the start of the term and at the end after the house cup is awarded," Dumbledore answered as he stroked his beard in contemplation. "But now, we find ourselves in a rather peculiar situation. The Ravenclaw hourglass is suspiciously empty and the students of the house are very concerned regarding the matter."

Harry felt as though the Headmaster was trying to add salt to the wounds by explaining everything to him as like he was a child and that too in the most boring way possible.

"Do you know of the reason, Harry?"

"Professor McGonagall has temper issues," Harry replied with a shudder.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed to Harry's surprise. "Especially when the students of her house are harmed."

"This may feel like a lazy and repetitive excuse but it really was unintentional!" Harry threw his hands up in defeat. "I was just practicing, sir."

"In a delicate environment," Dumbledore added, with his eyes twinkling like mad. "Fifty points to Ravenclaw for accomplishing transfiguration beyond the scope of a first year."

Now Harry was sure that the Headmaster was purposely trying to rub in the issue. "Thank you, sir."

"And a hundred points from Ravenclaw for attempting it in the hospital wing."

Harry nearly fell out of his chair in incredulity. "I don't think there were any points left to take after the first fifty."

"A grave issue that must be resolved immediately, then."

Harry would have sighed in exasperation if he wasn't sitting before one of the, if not the most, powerful men in entire Britain. It was like they were revolving in circles around the topic, waiting for the moment when Harry would finally snap. He hadn't believed when people said that Dumbledore could be one of the most infuriating people you could ever meet; The headmaster was so much fun back then!

"What do you think we should do, Harry?"

"I don't have a clue, sir."

"Hmm," Dumbledore peered over his spectacles to stare at Harry. "How about I propose a solution?"

'Like you should have done an hour ago?' It's not as though Harry had any other way but to accept his fate. "What is it, sir?"

"In return for replacing the points you lost, let's schedule a detention once every month for the rest of the year," Dumbledore placed his elbows on the table before crossing his fingers. "How does that sound, Harry?"

'Like the sound of my freedom screaming in horror.' Harry couldn't hold back a sigh. "With you, sir?"

"Good deduction, my boy. You are learning already."

Harry shifted his gaze from the smiling Headmaster to the cackling phoenix on the perch. At least someone, even if it's just a flaming bird, found his predicament amusing.

He suppressed the sudden urge to test the theory whether phoenixes were actually immortal. So, when the headmaster offered him lemon drops as a parting gift, he pocketed the whole box just out of sheer spite.

* * *

Harry's eyebrow hadn't stopped twitching since he left the headmaster's office and the student body's not-so-subtle whispers weren't helping. Once again, he found himself walking beside Tracey and Daphne, with Tracey snickering uncontrollably – one of the many reasons for his current ire – and Daphne was as emotionless as usual.

Daphne's usual reaction should have mollified him but somehow he only got more annoyed by the fact that even _this_ hellish situation wasn't enough to produce a reaction out of her.

"Even the dragon in the forbidden forest found this whole thing hilarious," Harry remarked as Tracey lost herself in a fit of giggles.

"There are no dragons in the forbidden forest," was Daphne's only comment.

Harry smirked. "Exactly."

Daphne bestowed him with a blank stare that would've made any lesser man drown himself in humiliation. Harry was way past that stage and simply shrugged it away like he usually did.

To Harry's surprise, he noticed Terry, Lisa, Susan and Hannah coming in the opposite direction. "Hey! What brings you this way?"

Their faces lit up at the sight of Harry, with Susan answering Harry's question. "We were searching for you actually."

"Bet you missed the Headmaster's office."

"Again, Harry?" Lisa sighed. "That's not a classroom, you know, to visit twice every week."

"Your sarcasm, as usual, is highly unappreciated," Harry waggled his fingers before gesturing to the two girls beside him. "By the way, this girl who just can't stop laughing is Tracey and the one who looks like she wouldn't care if we set ourselves on fire is Daphne."

"Tracey, Daphne, these are my other four best friends."

The two groups were introducing themselves to each other when somehow, the boys were separated from the girls. Harry and Terry were standing by the wall while the five girls were discussing matters that were entirely obscure to the boys.

"We are surrounded by five girls," Harry remarked out of the blue. "Are we the minority, Terry?"

Terry went pale at the thought. "I feel so..."

"Inadequate?"

"Small," Terry finished.

"I can hear my manliness dying a painful death."

"You are eleven," Lisa can't help but add.

"At such a young age too," Harry gave a mournful sigh. "By the way, Daphne?"

Daphne seemed relieved at the interruption, judging by the speed at which she responded to Harry's call, and in an instant, she was by his side, looking at him expectantly. "Hmm?"

"Not here," Harry pulled her along with him by her shoulder, while waving back to his friends with the other. "I'll see you guys in a few minutes."

"If only there were a bit older, I could have already written a novel about forbidden romance," Hannah voiced out, earning incredulous looks from the other four.

"What? The chemistry between them is plain as a day."

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder what goes on in your head," Susan shook her head in response.

* * *

"You said you want to see a dementor, right?" Harry spoke once they reached a desolate corridor.

"Yes," came the only response.

"Of course you did. Why am I even asking?" Harry mentally berated himself for even expecting her to back to out. Sometimes he wondered just which of them was more insane. "How about this Saturday, while the quidditch match is happening?"

"I see. The professors will be busy with the match, so no one will notice if we venture into the forest."

"I couldn't have framed it better," Harry wiped a fake tear.

Daphne inclined her head in what could be confusion. "Why is it that you always try to act so dramatic?"

"I am compensating for the lack of emotions on your side," Harry answered without missing a beat.

"What do you mean?" There was that odd tilt to her voice again.

Harry patted her on the head with a smile. "I'll make sure you understand someday."

"I still don't understand."

"Someday, Daph. Not now."

* * *

The sky was bright and clear of any clouds when Harry and Daphne began traversing down the rugged pathway to the forbidden forest. They could hear the noise and cheering of the other students in the background after the Quidditch match started but that only made them walk even faster.

"Is this your first time into the forest, Harry?"

"I regularly come here for a stroll during the night."

"Oh."

Harry sighed. "I was being sarcastic, Daph."

.

.

.

"So, why did you leave a card at Hagrid's hut?" Daphne asked after a few minutes.

"Preparing for emergencies."

A pause. "Are you being sarcastic again?"

"God, no."

.

.

.

"It's too dark in here, isn't it?" Daphne asked yet again.

A bizarre thought struck Harry's mind. "Are you afraid, Daphne?"

"I thought that was obvious."

'It never is,' Harry mused. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"I believe I talk too much when I am afraid," Daphne divulged in a whisper.

"First time I am hearing it."

"I thought that's what people usually do," Daphne said as they jumped over a gigantic root.

"Different people have different reactions to fear," Harry remarked as he cut a large branch obstructing their way with an overpowered 'Diffindo.'

"What is your reaction?"

"I stop talking."

"..."

"..."

"Are you afraid, Harry?"

"Scared out of my mind, to be honest," Harry replied as another chill ran down his spine.

"But this was your idea," Daphne pointed out as though that simple fact made everything alright.

"That's not how things work, Daph," Harry shrugged but in their pitch-dark surroundings, he doubted if it's visible.

"You make everything so complicated."

Harry let out a small smile. "For reasons unknown, I am very glad I am not taking this trip with some other person. God knows it will be a catastrophe if both of us are freaking out."

"I am freaking out," Daphne said with a straight face; an expression so different from what she was saying that it wasn't even funny.

"Oh, you have no idea."

.

.

.

"The trees are getting huge. This one's bigger than the Ravenclaw tower!" Harry exclaimed as gestured towards the tree beside him.

"There is an acromantula infestation in the middle of the forest. So, obviously the trees will be big if they are homes to such big spiders," Daphne answered like she was explaining that the sky was blue.

Harry paused in his step, with his mouth hanging open in horror. "Wa..wait a minute! Spiders? What do you mean, 'spiders'? Why is it always the spiders? That's a cliche!"

The moment he finished, he heard scuttling of the said spiders around him and the horrid sound was accompanied by the clicking of their pincers. Their next few steps led them into a hollow ridge that had been cleared of trees and sunlight shone down upon the worst scene that Harry had ever seen.

Spiders, as tall as Harry himself, were spread around the clearing like pebbles on a beach and judging by their excited whispers, their intentions were less than generous.

"Aragog!" One of the spiders whispered as it clicked its pincers rapidly. "Aragog!"

From the misty, domed web emerged a creature that resembled an elephant rather than a spider and its eyes were a milky white, showing that it was blind.

"Who is it?," the raspy voice of Aragog echoed in the clearing.

"Humans," one of the spiders rubbed its pincers in excitement.

"Is it Hagrid?"

"Strangers," the spider answered with delight.

"Kill them," clicked the Aragog fretfully. "I was sleeping..."

"Woah, Woah, Woah! Wait a minute," Harry took a step forward, raising his arms in surrender. "I don't know how things work here but eating anybody who enters your home is not the way to deal with it."

Aragog remained silent but the others were not so courteous. "I want to eat him first."

Harry's lips pulled into a line. "Let's settle this peacefully?"

One of the spiders jumped forward threateningly and Harry threw a card out of sheer fright. The card embedded itself in the thick hide of the acromantula and then it disappeared with a click of his fingers.

"People say I'm insane when I try to be normal," Harry informed as he flashed the set of cards he had at hand. "Right now I am terrified out of my wits and I have fifty cards at hand. Do your math."

"What did you do to my son?" Aragog demanded with a hint of trepidation in his tone.

"What will I do with a giant spider?" Harry shuddered at the very thought. "I sent it to Hagrid's hut. No way in hell I'm teleporting that thing to my room."

"You are friends of Hagrid?"

"Friends is a term I use loosely," Harry answered with a shrug.

"So if we leave you then you will never enter this place again!" Aragog commanded and Harry backed away as he nodded rapidly.

"Even if I do, I will leave this place as fast as humanly possible," Harry added after a moment of thought.

That seemed to appease Aragog and he backed away into his web after ordering the other spiders to leave. The spiders looked unhappy at the lack of an afternoon meal but obeyed their father/ leader.

Harry fell down to his knees once they left the clearing. "That's the most frightening thing I've ever experienced in my life!"

"Yes," Daphne nodded in accord.

"And what the hell were you doing while the spiders were cooking a recipe with me as the main ingredient?" Harry couldn't help but shout, though it lacked the necessary energy or aggression.

"I stayed silent, hoping that the spiders would ignore me. They could have asked one of us in exchange for letting the other leave," Daphne answered like it was the most obvious thing. Which it might be for all Harry knew. "You were doing excellent on your own."

"That's..." Harry pondered over it for a moment. "Not half a bad idea."

"I know."

"Logical in the face of unpleasant death," Harry noted to himself that it should be one of the qualities he must develop. "And you didn't even freak out when I teleported the spider."

"I did freak out," Daphne pointed out.

"You call that 'freaking out'?" Harry deadpanned. "You know, I am starting to love this...when someone around me is not freaking out at everything I do."

He ignored Daphne's comment of 'I was freaking out!' with extreme prejudice. That just didn't count.

"Let's say, will you be my accomplice?"

She didn't even take a moment to reply. "No."

"Apprentice?"

"No."

Harry slumped in disappointment. "This doesn't seem to be working out. Let's just stick with friends for now."

"For now? What after that?" came the question laced with curiosity.

"Now _this_ you care about?" Harry threw his hands up in defeat.

After a few minutes of walking, they came upon a gigantic tree that dwarfed all others and its branches were wide enough to provide shelter for a few dozen meters. Harry stared up at the sky through the cracks, searching for the presence of any dementor. If he was here, then there's a good possibility that one of them was nearby.

His intuition proved correct a moment later as a misty chill glided through the air to reach them. It was as though an ice-cold snake was creeping up his form and twisting its coils around him. It was not a good feeling.

A card automatically settled between his fingers as the form of the dementor came into the view, with his other hand holding his silver wand. "We don't have Sirius Black with us."

Daphne was frozen by his side but as was common these days, the dementor ignored her in favor of Harry. Her pale skin was deathly white right now and her irises were like frozen chips of ice. Her fingers were clenched into fists and she seemed to take breaths with great reluctance.

None of them were good signs. Especially when it was Daphne; the girl whose knowledge regarding said emotions was lacking, to say the least.

He shifted closer to her, for her own sake if not for his. The dementor didn't seem to be too unnerved by his sudden motion and simply continued gliding over to them at a painfully slow rate. It looked like it was being… cautious?

Harry brought his wand forward once the dementor was close enough for the mist in front him to condense. "Expecto..."

The dementor's bony hand shot forward and instead of snapping away at his wand, it's lengthy fingers plucked the card out of Harry's hand. Harry was too shocked, and not a little terrified, to maintain his grip on the card.

It placed the card in front of its face, as though checking it over, but in an act that would give Harry nightmares for months, it sucked the magic right out of the card! A moment later, a powerless, simple, muggle playing card fell down the air at Harry's feet.

Harry blinked. His shoulders fell down as the tension left him but his body remained motionless in sheer disbelief. He picked up the card lying on the ground and it flared to life at his touch. He gave it a flick and it sailed over into the distance.

The dementor flew after it, racing after the card like a dog does with a bone.

For the second time that day, Harry found himself on his knees on the ground but this time the fear was replaced by...disbelief? Incredulity? _Hilarity_?

"What do dementors eat to live, Daph?"

Daphne started at his question but answered it anyway. "Souls, I think."

"No," Harry shook his head. "Soul is like a wrapper around a chocolate or the packaging around a food item. I think they devour the magic people have in their souls."

An instant after he finished, the dementor came back with his card in its hands and dropped it once again before Harry. Harry took a deep breath, calming himself, and then flicked the card once again but this time he made sure that it went so far that it would take the dementor at least a few minutes to return with it.

"So, you mean..." Daphne began but paused as she noticed that Harry had an air of depression hanging around him.

Harry staggered forward and leaned by the tree, with a gloomy rain cloud hanging over his head. "My cards are like… overpowered weapons that countries ban each other from producing. They are NOT dementor's version of potato chips!"

Daphne patted him on the head. "I'm sure it will be fine. Someday."

Somehow, it made Harry feel even worse.

* * *

Their return trip from the forest was fairly uneventful. That should've relieved Harry but he was on his toes right now, twitching at every noise. The reason?

The dementor was trailing behind them like a clingy pet.

Harry sighed for what must be the millionth time in the past ten minutes. If only they could somehow disappear from its sight…

Like a strike of thunder, a brilliant idea hit his mind and with a flourish, he brandished the invisibility cloak he had in his pocket. He hadn't used it till now because he presumed that this whole adventure would be a waste if the dementors couldn't see or sense him. But now, he had no such restrictions.

He held Daphne's wrist before pulling her onto him and veiled their touching bodies with the cloak.

"What are you doing?" Daphne asked calmly.

Not for the first time, Harry thanked the heavens that it was not some other girl he was taking this trip with. If it had been, Harry would've been rolling on the floor by now, holding something very precious to him.

"This is my invisibility cloak," Harry answered with a mile-wide grin. "Apparently, this cloak provides perfect invisibility. What better way to test that theory than with a dementor?"

They stumbled back and Harry watched with growing excitement as the dementor floundered around in search for them. Sometimes, he just loved the powerful items he had at hand.

A pack of cards, a silver wand, and an invisibility cloak. The must-have tools for every insane and reckless adventurer.

Harry let out a sigh of relief when he could once again hear the sounds of the students shouting as they witnessed the quidditch match. "Ah, we're finally here!"

"Do you think we should join the other students?" Daphne whispered because they were so close that their shoulders were constantly rubbing against each other.

"Hmm. We'll see," Harry nodded but then another question popped in his mind. "So, why did you want to see a dementor?"

"Why did you?" Daphne shot back, though she sounded resigned to the fact that she would have to answer the question.

"Because you asked," Harry answered simply. "Well, that's the main reason. But I can hear my mother when I am near them...so it's an added bonus?"

Daphne fell silent at his answer. "Thank you."

Harry removed the invisibility cloak and was about to reply when his gaze fell on two figures standing at a distance. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape were discussing something serious and to Harry's horror, Snape was facing them.

In his haste, he paid no attention to the words Daphne said in a whisper. " _I hear my mother too._ "

"Quick!" Harry yelled as he donned his invisibility cloak but before Daphne could get under it, Snape sighted her.

"Miss Greengrass!" Snape snapped as he stalked forward. "Are you coming from the forbidden forest?"

"No, Professor," Daphne answered in her usual monotone.

Snape seemed visibly surprised at the simple answer but recovered quickly. "Don't lie, Miss Greengrass. I saw you by the forest."

"Then it's just a speculation, Professor Snape," Daphne remarked with a blink. "Me standing by the forest doesn't necessarily imply that I am venturing into it or exiting it."

Harry bit his lip from stop himself from laughing at Snape's sour expression. Meanwhile, Dumbledore had his eyes fixed on the place Harry was standing at. 'Can the Headmaster notice me even through the invisibility cloak?'

"Then what business do you have at this place?" Snape demanded.

"I am enjoying this pleasant afternoon by roaming around on the school grounds."

A giant acromantula scuttled out of the bushes and then shot what looked like a withering glare at the three humans present before rushing into the forest.

The three people and Harry stared at it with varying amounts of amusement or disbelief until it disappeared out of sight. "A pleasant afternoon, indeed," Dumbledore agreed.

"Now I am certain that Potter has a hand in this," Snape grit his teeth. "Was Mr. Potter with you, Miss Greengrass?"

"That depends on the time frame you are talking about, Professor," Daphne said and Snape appeared triumphant for an instant. "He certainly was with me a few hours ago."

Snape had a vein bulging on his forehead that was threatening to burst and only the fact that Daphne was from Slytherin was stopping him from deducting a thousand points.

Harry had his fist buried in his mouth while his face was steadily turning redder as he restrained his laughter. Then out of nowhere, he felt a tug on his cloak and a moment later, he was quite visible to the three people standing before him.

The two professors stared blankly as Harry removed the fist out of his mouth and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

"Headmaster, Professor Snape!" Harry greeted before turning to Daphne. "Miss Greengrass! Fancy meeting you here."

"It certainly is," Daphne agreed. "Are you coming from the Quidditch match, Potter?"

"Oh, for the love of..." Snape narrowed his eyes at the clearly fake conversation.

"You can say that," Harry took a step back and then another, before disappearing into dark, empty space beneath the stands. "See you later!"

"That's a convenient coincidence," Snape drawled with a piercing stare.

"We have no valid proof to say that they are acting out of bounds, Severus," Dumbledore intervened before shifting his blue-eyed gaze to Daphne. "But since you were found near a forbidden area, I must take action. You and Mr. Potter – wherever he is – cannot witness this quidditch match."

Daphne bowed her head in acceptance. "I will keep that in mind, sir."

"Your blatant favoritism is not helping in this situation, Headmaster," Snape spat after Daphne walked away.

"Favoritism?" Dumbledore seemed taken aback at the very thought. "I forbid two students from witnessing the end of a quidditch match, Severus. That's the cruelest thing I've done all week!"

Snape could only roll his eyes in response.

* * *

"What are you guys _doing?_ " Harry shouted in a whisper as he stared at the two redheaded twins before him. "Don't you two have, I mean like, a QUIDDITCH MATCH to play?"

"Oliver asked for a time out," One of the twins answered. Normally, it's impossible to tell the twins from each other. In this darkness, Harry gave up the struggle before it even began.

"And you decided to visit me of all people and yank out my cloak?" Harry deadpanned.

"You've pranked us and we always return the favor, don't we Georgie?"

"That we do, Freddie."

"Huh? What prank?" Harry tilted his head in confusion.

"He..." one of the twins began.

"forgot?" the other twin finished.

"The one in the hospital wing."

"Brilliant, if I may add."

"Not as brilliant as us, of course."

Harry shook his head to get rid of the double-effect. "That was unintentional."

"Ah, the perfect excuse."

"We've been saying the same since we were five."

"No one ever believes us, though."

"That's because you can never hide your stupid grin when you tell that, George."

"Hey! That's what George does! I am Fred."

"Oh. Then it's me?"

"..."

"..."

"Oh my god! Can you guys quit that for like a second?" Harry held his head in his hands. "And anyway, can I get my cloak back?"

"Sure."

"We have a match to play."

"How did you guys find me?" Harry furrowed his brows as he donned his cloak again.

"Trade secret."

"Is it Oliver I hear?"

"Hell, he's calling for us!"

"Run, Freddie."

"We both have brooms."

"Then hold the broom in your hand!"

"Idiot."

Harry let out an evil laugh once they left but that didn't exactly come out right. Not that it mattered.

'No one outplays Harry Potter,' he thought as he held the folded parchment that he stole from the twin on the left at the last second.

He opened the parchment to notice...a blank parchment?

All color left his face as two tick marks appeared on his brow. "Dammit! Dammit! Stupid! I stole a freaking blank parchment! What next? Quills and ink?"

* * *

The shrieking shack currently housed two morose people and an owl.

"I mean it's like the whole world is trying to take away my freedom," Harry ranted as he paced along the dilapidated room. "And the sad thing is that it's working!"

"You are discussing this with _me?_ The guy who just escaped from Azkaban after staying there for ten years? The guy who can't even get out of this wooden dump if he doesn't want his soul being sucked out or being sent back to said prison by Aurors?" Sirius deadpanned as he poked at the wooden plank that rose out of the floor.

Harry paused as he pondered about it. "Hmm. So you're like the bar that I should set myself against?"

"How on earth did you reach _that conclusion?"_ Sirius palmed his face in frustration.

"But you see, now I can't even get out of the castle without a dementor following me around," Harry continued without dignifying Sirius's question with an answer. "It's a good thing that dementors can't get into the castle or it would be accompanying me to class."

Hedwig hooted indignantly at that statement.

"Oh, no... Hed. That thing is not your replacement," Harry waved his hands frantically. "Both of you can fly and that's where the similarities end. It acts more like a dog than an owl, you know?"

Sirius's dog senses felt vaguely insulted but he brushed those away with extreme prejudice. This was not the place or time to be insulted by a dementor of all things. The owl was doing enough for both of them, to be honest.

"How did that thing even find you?" Sirius asked with a frown. He experienced the scare of a lifetime when he suddenly felt the presence of a dementor outside the shack and only when Harry appeared did his heart rate fall down to acceptable levels.

"For once I come out without my invisibility cloak and this happens!" Harry gestured around as though declaring that everything was wrong with the world.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"Completely."

Silence permeated the shack for a few seconds, broken only by Hedwig's occasional delighted hoot as she found another insect to eat.

"So, does this mean that you stole a dementor from the ministry?" Sirius smirked.

"We can consider it that way," Harry mirrored Sirius's smirk but then it vanished as the events of the day caught up with him. "But it's like I am stealing totally useless things these days."

"What do you mean?"

"This afternoon I stole a parchment from the Weasely twins," Harry threw the said parchment in Sirius's direction. "Can you believe it? A parchment. That's like stealing food from the Kitchen elves... they stuff you with it anyway!"

"Wait for a second," Sirius murmured as he opened the parchment. His eyes shone with glee as he watched it unfold and his signature troublemaker grin made its way onto his face.

" _I solemnly swear I am up to no good."_

"You never are," Harry shot back, facing the other way.

"Shut up and watch a miracle happen!" Sirius yelled in excitement.

"If it's you rubbing it in my face..." Harry began but his mouth snapped shut as ink crawled over the paper to form a miniature image of the castle, with various streams of ink leading away from it.

"It's the Marauder's map!" Harry gasped in shock.

Harry knelt beside Sirius while Hedwig flew over to them and situated itself between the both of them. Tiny footsteps marked on the paper, with names written in miniature above them, moved around the castle. The map showed a set of passages that Harry never even knew existed, just along the familiar corridors he had always taken.

"This is..." Harry felt himself at a loss for words.

"A masterpiece, right?" Sirius was beside himself, with his face glowing brightly with happiness. He appeared to have gotten younger by a few years as he beamed with pride.

Harry simply nodded.

Hedwig, who remained silent until then, cuffed Harry on the head and pointed at the Ravenclaw tower. "You want to see my room, Hed?"

The map shifted and zoomed in to show the rooms in the Ravenclaw tower, with each room represented by a rectangular block and each person by a tiny dot. "See...Terry's in the room. And..."

"Peter Pettigrew?"/ "Peter Pettigrew!" The twin shouts of Harry and Sirius echoed in the hollow shack.

"Oh, my fucking..." Sirius gaped in utter disbelief.

"I have another man living under my bed...Eww!"

"But it's Peter!" Sirius shouted.

"You know, that doesn't make me feel any better."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yes, I understand. I lived with him for seven years, in case you don't know."

"Such a sad existence."

"Not the point, right now," Sirius shook his head. "But you know what I smell just around the corner?"

Harry's eyes widened comically before he threw back his head and let out a wondrous laugh. " **Freedom!** "

* * *

 **Author's Note: I'm Back.**

 **I know some of you are entertaining murderous thoughts because of me not updating for what has been two whole months. I can understand.**

 **So, how is the chapter? I am sure all of you can/ will guess what would happen after this. Don't.**

 **But please do review your suggestions as it's been so long that I have lost the flow of the story and can use some help. It's the same case with my four other stories. If you feel that something more could have made the chapter better, feel free to tell me and I will do my best to improve the quality.**

 **Next update? As fast as humanly possible.**


	15. Pride and Prejudice

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

Nothing could motivate you like the simple idea that something you always thought was impossible was just within your reach. Admittedly, it was Sirius's freedom he was excited about but, at this stage, he was happy with whatever he could get.

Harry ran from the Shrieking Shack to Hogwarts at breakneck speeds but due to his short legs, he only reached the entrance to the Great Hall before collapsing in exhaustion. He blamed his magic and teleportation skills for his lack of stamina, for, after all, nothing made you lazier than fact that you could deal with anything with a flick of your hand.

So, when Remus found him, Harry was drenched in sweat and his face was flushed like he ran a marathon in the middle of the night during winter. Which he totally did.

"Moony! We... found… the...ra...rat!" Harry informed as he took gulps of air like a man dying of suffocation.

"Breathe, Harry," Remus said patiently.

Harry leaned over Remus's desk and waited until he got his racing heart under control. "The rat is under my bed!"

"Yes," Remus nodded like he knew everything Harry had in his mind. "At this age, it's common to fear rats or any other creatures. You only need to keep in mind that they won't harm you unless you threaten them."

Harry stared at Remus as though the older man had said that werewolves were excellent for cuddling. Remus had the sense to look flustered. After all, it wasn't a comforting stare. Here Harry was, dealing with giant spiders for the morning, Severus Snape during the afternoon, and dementors during the night and Remus dared to assume that Harry came running all the way to his office to complain about a rat?

People simply lacked any sense of appreciation, Harry decided in his mind.

"Yes, Moony. This advice is enough to change my whole outlook on life," Harry remarked with a dryness that could make Snape proud.

"What's the problem?" Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. He wondered just how he forgot that anything concerned with Harry Potter was not normal. It could determine the fate of the world for all he knew but it definitely wouldn't be ordinary.

Harry brought out the marauder's map, smirking at the look of shock on Remus's face. "Two good friends of mine _gifted_ this map to me this afternoon."

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry whispered before pointing at his room. "But look who decided to show up on the map after so many years. Literally."

Remus's eyes bulged out as he experienced his second major shock of the month in the last minute. "Peter!"

* * *

Remus was strangely silent as they hurried over to Harry's dorm while Harry fidgeted out of nervousness. He surmised that at any moment, the onslaught of questions would begin.

Sirius's only words of comfort were, 'It's Moony we're talking about. He's the type to ask questions without expecting answers.'

Considering that it had been nearly eleven years since the two Marauders had seen each other, Harry didn't place a lot of confidence in Sirius's reassurances.

So it came as no surprise when Harry nearly fell down the stairs when Remus spoke again. "I never told you the password for the Marauder's Map."

"My two good friends..." Harry began but the words froze in his mouth at Remus's 'you-can't-talk-out-of-this-one' look.

Harry glanced to the side to check the chances of not dying a painful death if he took the easier route and jumped down the stairs.

"After this, you'll tell me everything," Remus said with a stern gaze.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and gave a weak sign of approval. Their rather brief stroll ended as they stood before Harry's dorm and as Remus took out his wand, Harry followed suit. The door opened with a sharp creak and the light from the corridor illuminated the dark room.

Harry's bed was situated by the window, with Terry's bed attached to the wall facing the window. Realizing that their nocturnal adventures were dangerous to the inexperienced, Harry ambled over to Terry's bed to wake him up. But to Harry's surprise, Terry was wide awake, with his wand clutched tightly in his hand, and a sheen of sweat coating his pale face. Considering that it's an hour past midnight and the cold winds of November were blowing harshly, no one had the right to be sweating; Except kids who ran all over the Hogwarts grounds before getting caught red-handed by a professor.

"Um, Terry?" Harry's whisper broke the harsh silence of the room.

Terry gave a sharp jolt, making Harry take a step back in fright. "Harry? WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?"

Harry looked like a prey stuck in a corner. "I-I went around for a walk."

"It's one o'clock," Terry gave a disbelieving glance.

"Ah, the wonders of the night," Harry gave a sigh of nostalgia that managed to fool no one. "Anyway, what happened?"

Terry gave a shudder as the fear returned to his eyes. "I feel like there's somebody in our room."

Harry and Remus shared a glance. Harry wondered if he was the only person in the castle who was oblivious to the fact that there was a criminal under his bed. It sure seemed that way.

"You must be seeing things," Harry lied as he tried to wave off Terry's concerns and chuckled nervously.

Terry stared at Harry in suspicion. "I don't know. Whenever I am in the room, I get a feeling that someone's watching me."

Harry held back a sigh. Out of all the times for Terry to develop clairvoyance, it happened when there's a mass murderer hiding in the room. "I am sure it's nothing."

"You're the one to talk," Terry glared at Harry, who suddenly found Terry's pillow interesting. "You disappear every day, coming back Merlin knows when. For all I know, it's you sneaking into the room at night that's scaring me."

"Every day?" Remus repeated and crossed his arms as he gave a look that shouted, 'You're-in-trouble'. Remus's looks tended to be self-explanatory.

"I am sure he's exaggerating," Harry nodded and wisely refrained himself from meeting the gaze of the irate professor.

"Every day," Terry confirmed, taking guilty pleasure as Harry deflated under the scrutiny of Remus.

"Come on, Terry. Nobody wants to get into the details," Harry remarked as nonchalantly as possible.

' _You_ don't want to get into the details,' rang loud and clear in the silence of the room.

"That aside, Harry, we have other matters to deal with," Remus interjected in a whisper.

"Why is Professor Lupin here?!" Terry's paranoia rushed forth in full force as he pointed at Remus in fright.

If it had been any other situation, Remus would've rushed to the window to see if there's a full moon outside. You couldn't be too careful in a school full of paranoid kids.

"We were hunting for rats!" Harry blurted out.

"Rats?"

"A rat, to be precise," Remus nodded in agreement. "Some student lost his pet and Harry here is trying to help me."

"So, Terry, can you stay outside for a few minutes?" Harry said as he stepped back from the bed. "Until we find it?"

"Why? It's just a pet, right?"

'Oh, you have no idea.' "It's a violent one" Harry warned.

"It's not like you're good with pets!" Terry protested as his sleep-deprived mind conjured imaginary scenarios of the rat turning into a man and killing everyone. "The only reason Hedwig is still alive is because she might be an extraterrestrial being of higher intelligence and has more common sense than the whole Gryffindor house combined."

Harry could only blink at the accusation. He still couldn't figure out whether he should be insulted or proud on his owl's behalf. Who knew a paranoid Terry was so much fun?

"It's not like you have a pet to have any idea about these things," Harry pointed out.

Terry instantly sunk into depression and gathered his blankets in his hands. "I told mum that others will pick on me if I didn't get a pet!"

"Nobody's picking on you, Terry," Harry sighed as Terry began to walk out of the room.

"This is discrimination!" Terry gave a final shout as he slammed the door close.

"Hmph, kids these days," Harry shook his head in a disturbingly McGonagall way.

As Harry was contemplating how he should apologize to Terry once this escapade came to an end, Remus cautiously levitated Harry's trunk and placed it on the floor before them. Sharing a look, the professor and the student crouched down in front of it, with Harry across Remus on the other side of the trunk.

With a snap, Remus opened the latch and the noise echoed in the scarily silent room. Remus hesitated as the corner section of the trunk came into view, knowing that everything he had believed for the last ten years would turn into a lie the moment he opened it. It was like the Pandora's box of his previous ten years of existence.

Meanwhile, Harry had no such reservations and with an almost curious look on his face, he unlocked the box.

"HARRY~!" Remus would forever deny that he released an unmanly squeak as he shot to his feet and pointed his wand at the box.

A single twig like paw that was almost too thin to even notice from a few meters clutched at the edge of the box and with utmost struggle that was only seen from people climbing Mt. Everest, a trembling rat – if the gray-haired, dull-eyed, buck-toothed and skeleton-like _thing_ could even be called that – stumbled out of the box.

"Harry, get away from that!" Remus shouted in fear and his wand was already shooting out sparks in a threatening manner. "You don't know how dangerous he is!"

The still-unconfirmed rat-like 'being' took a tiny step forward and then tried to take another but collapsed in exhaustion midway.

Harry looked at the barely breathing rat and then directed a deadpanned expression at Remus. "Yes, Moony. I am terrified."

All the adrenaline rushing through his body disappeared out of trace as Remus stared at the unconscious animagus. That was strangely anti-climatic.

"How long has he been staying there?" Remus asked in a bland tone. He was still trying to make sense of what had happened.

"Three months, give or take," Harry replied in an equally bland tone. Now that he thought about it, how on earth did Pettigrew survive in his trunk for three months?

And what was he doing there for three months?

Not even daring to look at his trunk, Harry cast an overpowered cleaning charm and promptly incinerated the corner portion of his trunk to ashes for good measure.

Remus ignored the ashes floating in the air and cast an _Incarcerous_ to bind the rat in tight ropes. Conjuring a cage out of thin air, he levitated the rat into it and promptly collapsed onto the bed beside him. Remus needed no proof that this was Pettigrew, other than the missing finger on the rat's right paw.

"How is he still alive?" Harry asked hesitantly as a shred of guilt wormed its way into his heart. Damn his forgetfulness and selective memory.

"Witches and wizards are highly durable," Remus explained tiredly. "That's how prisoners survive for so long in places like Azkaban. Animagus take that durability to the extreme. And you know how rats can eat anything."

At the mention of Azkaban, even the shred of guilt waned as he remembered that this rat was the reason why Sirius had to stay in that hellhole for ten years.

Well, at least no one ever blamed him for being cruel.

* * *

"Freaking hell, that's outright animal cruelty!" Sirius gaped as he watched the carcass-like form of the rat animagus.

Well, there went that thought.

Harry walked off to a corner to wallow in depression while Remus tied the rat to a wooden beam at the edge of the room. A quick Animagus Reversal Spell and there laid the unconscious form of one Peter Pettigrew. Wasting no time, Remus cast another _Incarcerous_ and another two binding spells. Remus was cautious at best and downright paranoid at worst. Harry chalked it off as habits developed from keeping his furry form a secret for years.

The once pot belly of Pettigrew now resembled a shallow crater as it sunk up to his spine and even a half-blind man could count the clearly visible ribs. His skin was of an unhealthy pallor and combined with the sunken cheeks, it gave him the appearance of a corpse. He lost most of his hair and the few remaining strands were of a dirty gray color. His grubby rags hung loosely on his frame, like blankets draped on a body, and his skin clung to his bones like plaster. Overall, the rat animagus looked like he was inches away from death's door.

Despite feeling pity for the man before him, Sirius couldn't help but feel a vindictive pleasure at seeing Pettigrew like this; Looking just like how Sirius himself was when he escaped from Azkaban. Albeit less sexy and lacking his devilishly handsome and rogue looks. Couldn't ignore that one.

They stared at Pettigrew for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts until Harry's question snapped them out of their trip down the memory lane. "What do we do now?"

"I am hungry," Sirius said and his stomach rumbled as proof of his statement. Sirius shifted his gaze to Pettigrew again and then continued in an unsure tone. "That guy is probably hungry too."

"You think so?" Harry retorted in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

That sarcasm went right over Sirius's head. "Hey, I am no Auror but that looks like one _starving_ man to me."

Harry withheld the urge to facepalm. He wondered how in a room filled with two adults and an eleven-year-old boy, the boy was the least oblivious. "Yes, Padfoot. It sure looks like it."

With that dry statement, Harry disappeared without a pop to fetch some food from the kitchens. He hoped that the house elves would understand this time that forcibly stuffing food into him was _not_ the way to worship him.

After Harry left, Sirius let out a yawn and was about to walk over to sit on his transfigured bed but the presence of another man stopped him in his tracks. The anxiety of finding Pettigrew made the two adults take no note of each other until then but now that they were the only two conscious people in the room, the presence of the other was quite unnerving.

Remus looked like he was about to pop a vein with how distressed he was feeling. What if Sirius hated him for how he had so easily believed that the Black heir betrayed James? Had their friendship degraded over the years that Sirius couldn't even talk to him? He could accept if Sirius declared that they could never go back to what they were but was Sirius even willing to ever forgive him? What if….

All those rampant thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Sirius spoke. "Hey, Moony, got a girl yet?"

And just like that, all his worries came crashing down.

* * *

When Harry teleported back into the shack, he found Sirius and Remus on the floor, hugging each other for all its worth; With tears streaming down their faces and laughter on their lips.

"Oh, Moony, Bellatrix was in my adjacent cell!" Sirius wept on Remus's shoulder while the werewolf awkwardly patted his friend's back. "We knew she was a crazy bitch but I never expected her to be a crazy bitch overdosed on drugs and my mom's secretly stacked alcohol. It was all over like my childhood again."

Harry silently stood by the door and pondered how anyone's childhood could be compared to a stay in Azkaban. Then he remembered his own less than stellar pre-Hogwarts days. The less he said about it, the better.

But Harry's presence outside the grounds once again attracted his pet dementor, who was patiently – Harry had no idea how dementors of all things could be patient – waiting for him outside the shack for a late night snack.

His magic could do marvelous and, sometimes, impossible things. Or so he had thought until a dementor had _so easily_ gobbled it away from his cards.

As was customary of Remus, he freaked out the moment he sensed the bone-chilling aura of the dementor. "There's a dementor outside!"

Once again, Sirius didn't get the memo. "Yeah. The Dementors were there too. Cheeky buggers were always trying to kiss me...and it's not as awesome as I am making it sound."

Remus's face was already red with agitation. "No! There's a dementor! Outside the shack!"

"Oh, that..." Sirius was not to be bothered. "Just ignore it for some time and it will stop bugging us."

" _It's not a dog, Sirius!"_ Remus seethed, not understanding how anyone could be this unconcerned. Especially, Sirius Black – the most wanted criminal – of all people.

"Hey! That's offensive to me," Sirius shot back...and then paused. "Wait, why is it offensive to me?"

Harry ignored the petty squabble of the two _responsible_ adults in his life and went outside. He threw a card at the dementor, who happily plucked it out of thin air. "That's it! No more night snacks for you, Demi."

It would've been a comical sight to see a dementor whine before flying away with a figurative rain cloud over its head.

"He named a dementor 'Demi'," Sirius rolled his eyes. "How uncool is that?"

"That's what you find uncool?" Remus massaged his forehead and slowly slid down to his knees. "Just _what_ is happening here?"

 **A lot of exclamations, a lot fewer explanations, and a dozen half-truths and half-lies later**

"This reminds me of the phrase, 'Pig for slaughter'," Remus, ever the philosopher, stated as he watched Harry place the food into a neat pile in front of an unconscious Pettigrew.

"Slaughter?!" the apparently not-unconscious man squeaked in fright. He fumbled around in an effort to get out of his bindings or to transform into a rat but realized a minute later that it was futile. His gaze fell onto the blank-faced Harry in front of him. "Harry! You look just like your father... Please...you've got to help me, Harry."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" Sirius roared. "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

Remus, on the other hand, was much calmer. But his scathing look and his venomous tone betrayed his thoughts. "Harry, don't listen..."

Harry cut Remus off with a small wave of his hand, indicating that he had it under control. "I can't believe this _idiot_ is the cause of all this pain in our lives."

Pettigrew looked like he swallowed something sour. "What...what are you saying, Harry...I didn't..."

"Oh, you don't know...right," Harry had an amused smile playing on his lips; which was in stark contrast with the sharp, almost cruel, look in his eyes. "Your home for the last three months, the trunk...is mine."

No one needed to know that Harry didn't even remember that he had a rat in his trunk.

Pettigrew's eyes widened in fear as he remembered the familiar green eyes he had seen before everything went dark for him. "Wha...that boy...green eyes...you..."

"Yes, it's me," Harry replied cheerfully. "You understand, don't you? You have no one to beg. No escape. Now, I had to go to the kitchen *cue shudder ***** to bring all this food. So, please eat. We want you strong and alive until we can hand you over to the Aurors."

Pettigrew shook pitifully and mumbled to himself in fear. A sheen of sweat coated his ghostly pale face and his eyes wandered all over the room to at least find an avenue to escape. He nearly collapsed in terror when he found none. "Please, Harry...Mercy….James! James wouldn't…he will help his friend…mercy, please!"

Harry thought he had the evil overlord act down pat. Evidently not, if Pettigrew still thought Harry would be his divine savior, instead of his two former best friends, who were just standing behind the green-eyed boy.

Harry pretended to think about it for a while and with each hum, Pettigrew's face grew more hopeful. "Nah. Nothing strikes my mind."

The rat animagus nearly face-faulted in incredulity. "Nothing?"

Harry shrugged in a 'what-can-you-do' manner before punching his fist into his palm in triumph. "I know!"

It was bewildering just how quickly Pettigrew's expression changed from frightened to hopeful to nervous and then to hopeful again.

"So, you have three choices," Harry declared as held up three fingers. "You already heard the first. Eat, sleep, have some nice dreams and before you know it, you'll be in Azkaban, surrounded by a lot of your old friends."

Though Harry made it sound appealing, it was clear from Pettigrew's constipated look that he didn't find it so.

"Okay, the second one. I recently got a very persistent stalker in the form of a dementor," Harry informed with a twitching eye. When he found the one who had the brilliant idea of sending dementors to Hogwarts, he would make sure that they understood just how much he appreciated the idea; With the use of a lot of cards and two lemon drops. "You know how pets are, being one yourself. They can never have enough food. A simple kiss and you'll never have to worry about anything again. Sounds interesting, doesn't it?"

Pettigrew discreetly inched closer to the wall and responded with a tiny, nearly imperceptible, shake of his head.

"Talk about greedy," Harry mumbled to himself. "So, the last option. I really wanted to try this for a long time but I don't want to try this on some innocent person. You see, I don't know what happens if I teleport another person with my cards. It works on animagus when they are in their animal form but I have no idea about what happens to humans."

Harry fished out his cards and shuffled them in his hands. At the sight of the cards, Pettigrew made a valiant effort to disappear into the wall, even though he had no idea what they did.

"You'll be..." Harry waited for the dramatic effect. "A lab rat!" he declared, waiting for the applause. "Fitting, isn't it?"

"Personally," Harry said in a stage-whisper. "I suggest taking the third one. My opinion may be biased though."

"You...you," Pettigrew pointed a trembling finger at Harry. "You're nothing like James or Lily! You're not their son!"

Harry recoiled like he was struck and the cards fell down to the floor from his limp hands. Pettigrew grew triumphant as he stared at the speechless form of the green eyed boy. "They're kind and loving people...you are -"

Before the despicable rat could do any more damage, Sirius silenced Pettigrew with a swift ' _Silencio'_.

"That's enough out of you," Sirius growled and the tip of his wand glowed green as he grit his teeth in rage.

"Well, I don't really know them, do I?" Harry shot back bitingly but the tremor in his voice and his clenched fists displayed the effect the rat's words had on him. "Thanks to you."

Harry picked up a card and flicked it the vulnerable form of Pettigrew. It sailed through the air before slicing the bindings on Pettigrew's hands. The rat animagus nearly fainted as he saw the card embed itself in the wall. "Eat now. No one's going to feed you."

He gathered remaining cards into his hands and walked out of the door. "I'll be outside."

Remus's stared at Pettigrew with a glare that could've flayed the man before burying him alive. In a trunk. Meanwhile, Sirius was contemplating if keeping this rat alive was really worth all the trouble. He could do away with this whole dog and mouse game with a simple 'Reducto'.

"So, any idea what's that about?" Sirius asked as he gestured at the door through which Harry disappeared.

Remus let out a mournful sigh. "Harry never spoke about it much but I know for sure that his home life is...not good."

Sirius met Remus's eyes inquisitively and comprehension dawned upon him. "Y-You think he's... _abused?"_

Sirius spat out the word like it's a curse and paced around in distress. Remus gave his friend a sidewise glance before making an effort at mollifying him. "It's not as bad as you think it is. But he's just a child, so, he might've been affected."

"You mean he's not entirely right in his mind?" Sirius retorted skeptically. "I've known Bellatrix for my whole life, Moony. I know what a crazy person looks like. This is not it."

"I never said that," Remus defended himself. "It's just...his morals are skewed. Not entirely sure what's right and what's wrong...that kind of issue. No one's ever been there to tell him what's what."

"That's not even an issue!" Sirius exclaimed as he waved his hands. "No one cares what's right or wrong."

Remus simply answered with a shrug, eliciting a sigh out of Sirius. "How did we let it happen, Moony?"

"At least you have a reason," Remus looked beyond contrite. "I didn't even check up on him."

"I was the one who forced James and Lily to make the rat the secret keeper," Sirius had a faraway look in his eyes as he held back a sob. "I was one who chased after the rat without even thinking of my godson. If anyone's to blame, it's me."

"Both of us fucked up, didn't we?" Remus said rhetorically.

"It's not entirely us, though..." Sirius drawled and both of them turned at once to stare at Pettigrew.

Pettigrew was gobbling up an impressive amount of Treacle Tart when he felt two murderous stares on him. He warily looked up and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Hey…let's not go pointing fingers, shall we?"

Sirius hit him with another ' _Silencio'_ out of sheer spite.

* * *

Harry was sitting on a gigantic rock by the Black lake when Sirius found him. He was idly flinging stones into the water and the subsequent ripples shimmered under the light of the moon.

"You have to throw the rocks at an angle for them to skip," Sirius advised as he stood beside Harry.

"I am not trying to make them skip," Harry replied as he threw another stone into the water. "I'm playing catch with the giant squid in the lake."

Even if Sirius wasn't about to believe his godson, the stone that was flung out of the lake to hit him on the head would have convinced him.

"We used to scare the first years by throwing them into the lake. Think he's not too happy that he had to bring them back every time," Sirius winced as he nursed the bruise forming on his head.

The silence that followed was broken by Harry's hesitant words. "Do you think I'm cruel?"

"Of course, you're not cruel!" Sirius argued with passion before lowering his voice to a whisper. "You're just a kid who lost his parents."

"But...dad and mom...they won't be happy..."

"You always heard that James is a good and honest man...Lily is the kindest person you ever see….You need to understand that even they were human, Harry," Sirius slowly sat down and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "James was no saint and Lily is not the Holy Maiden."

"We Marauders hurt more people than we can count. I can say for sure that Snape turned out the way he did because of us. Hell, Lily's temper knew no bounds once she snapped. All of us….we were all kids once and we made mistakes...a lot of them. You remember how I almost killed Snape, right?"

Harry nodded as he leaned against Sirius and let out the breath he was holding. Sirius simply pulled his godson closer and continued. "To be honest, you turned out much better than any of us. Lily must be really proud of you and I am sure James is crying tears of joy."

Harry furrowed his brows. "Shouldn't it be the reverse?"

"Eh, not really," Sirius shrugged. "James was always the emotional one."

Harry blinked and then accepted it the way it was. "Who knew, Sirius? You're really good at this comforting people thing."

"When you try to get into the pants of enough girls, you become good at this empathizing with others thing," Sirius answered proudly.

All the emotion he built upon his godfather's behalf burst like a balloon. "Forget I ever asked."

"No, really," Sirius turned to face Harry with a mile-wide creepy grin. "Especially when you wake up in the morning and have no idea who the girl beside you is. You never know how a morning can turn out..."

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Harry pondered the benefits of a taking a dive into the Black Lake in the middle of the night. He was sure the giant squid wouldn't let him drown. "You've effectively ruined the mood. What more are you hoping for?"

"This just proves my theory that kids and women are not all that different," Sirius rubbed at his chin as he made a note to himself.

"This is abuse."

"Hey, you are not sad anymore," Sirius pointed out with glee. "I say it worked like a charm."

Harry, on the other hand, was not ecstatic. He tugged his robes closer to his body and it had nothing to do with the chill in the air. "I feel violated."

* * *

Susan leafed through her Transfiguration notes as she struggled to finish the day's assignment. The solitude and the quiet stillness of the library helped her to think clearly. This corner of the library, situated in a dark place between two huge book racks, was her personal sanctuary. A place that not even her closest friends knew about.

"Hey, Sue!" A head with a mop of black messy hair on top and two emerald green eyes suddenly appeared in the gap between her face and her notes.

"Kyaaa!" Her terrified scream reached every corner of the library and echoed for a few seconds. Her chair scraped back noisily as she rose to her feet and the body that was nearly lying on her lap fell on the floor in a heap.

"Ow!" Harry winced as his ears rung like a schoolyard bell. Freaking hell, could the girl scream...he might've become deaf for all he knew.

Madam Pince arrived at the scene in an instant – 'Did she just apparate within Hogwarts? Nobody can appear that fast!' Harry thought as he ducked under the table.

"Why are you causing a ruckus, girl?" Madam Pince snapped and a part of Harry felt horrible for leaving Susan alone deal with the scary librarian. He ignored that part with extreme prejudice.

"I-I...I saw a spider!" Susan blurted out.

Madam Pince gave a withering glare and left while muttering 'Stupid girls. Can't even handle spiders. Why in my day...'

Susan let out a sigh of relief as she collapsed on her chair. Harry poked his head out to check whether the territory was clear and swiftly rose back to his feet.

"So, Sue.." He was not allowed to finish as a five-inch thick tome was repeatedly smacked onto the top of his head.

"What.." Another smack. "Are you doing?" Susan bit out as she finally stopped her assault.

Harry felt like he just got another inch shorter. He knew he shouldn't have tried this whole appearing-disappearing act with Susan as he did with Daphne – Bless her pure, emotionless soul. "I need your help."

"Really?" Susan blinked in surprise. The Harry Potter needing help? The whole school assumed that he was born with a 'How-to-do-whatever-you-want-and-get-away-with-it' manual.

"Hmm," Harry nodded as he took a seat across her. "When did you last send your aunt a letter?"

"Two days ago," Susan answered with suspicion etched across her face.

"And what happens if you send another one today?"

"She will freak out," Susan replied without missing a beat.

Harry face-faulted. "What?"

"She is a busy woman, Harry," Susan explained. "I know it and I only send a letter once every two weeks. If I send two within a week, she will think something's wrong...and freak out."

"And what happens if she...freaks out?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"She will come here running."

"We don't want that," Harry agreed and shifted in his seat. This wasn't as easy as he hoped. "Okay. Send her a letter saying I'll be staying with you during the holidays."

"Oh," Susan nodded. That sounded like a valid reason to send a letter. Wait a minute, "WHAT!"

"I said, STOP MAKING A RUCKUS, GIRL!" Madam Pince's voice roared instantly.

"Sorry," Susan mumbled out of reflex, even though Madam Pince couldn't hear her.

Harry dug a finger into his ear to check if there was blood. "God, don't be so loud."

"Wh- What do you mean 'staying with me'?" Susan had steam blowing out her ears and her blush surpassed her red hair in brightness.

"Just that," Harry shrugged. "You don't want me to come over?"

Susan buckled under the pressure of his big, bright green eyes. Boys had no right to look that cute. "I-I...i-it's...y-you..."

Great. She was acting like Hannah right now. Susan took a deep breath and said in an almost steady voice. "I-I'll send her a letter today."

"Great!" Harry cheered triumphantly. "Now, can you send this card along with the letter? Write anything you want in there but just tell her to NEVER throw away this card."

The suspicion came back with a vengeance. "Why?"

"I am trying to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic," Harry answered honestly. Not like she'd ever believe his words. "So, the card?"

Susan stared warily at the Seven of Diamonds and took it with great reluctance. "Are you using me to do your dirty work, Harry Potter?"

Harry could attest to the fact that he didn't know anything at all about girls but he was certain that using a full name screamed 'Trouble!'

"Of course not," Harry waved off her concerns with another one of his brilliant grins. Susan's anger abated a little at the honesty in his tone. "I brought you chocolates from Honeydukes in exchange!"

He never saw that book coming.

Madam Pince was fairly angry that the book that hit him right in the face had a small tear on its cover. He still didn't understand why she threw _him_ out of the library. It was all Susan's fault.

So, he took a leaf out of Terry's book. "This is Discrimination!"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, KID!" Once again, he never saw the book coming.

* * *

Meanwhile, a certain Hermione Granger was sitting just behind the book racks and, unfortunately, heard everything. 'He's trying to infiltrate the Ministry!'

From the day she had met him on the train, she knew that Harry Potter meant trouble and she had tried her best to stay away from him. But now, the situation had reached a critical point. What if he got caught and they shut down Hogwarts for training dangerous individuals?

With a speed that she didn't know she possessed, she ran all the way to the Gryffindor tower and quickly surveyed the common room to find the Prefect. Luck favored her and two Prefects were lounging on the sofa set with their friends.

She sauntered over to where they were sitting with a purpose to her steps. The female prefect noticed her coming and gestured at her friends to pause. "Yes, Miss Granger."

"Harry Potter is trying to infiltrate the Ministry!"

The whole common room fell silent...and then they went back to what they were doing. Pfft, just what they needed. Another one of their house thinking Harry Potter lived a life of sin and debauchery.

All except one person.

Ron Weasely, who was sitting in a lonely corner of the common room with a chessboard in front of him, suddenly sprang up straight in his seat. His previously dull eyes, that seemed devoid of life and joy, retained their gleam.

"Miss Granger," the prefect said patiently. "You can't accuse another student without proof."

"But I heard him say it!" Hermione asserted passionately. "You can't let him do it. He might get killed...or worse, expelled!"

'This girl has it bad,' the Prefect sweatdropped.

"And how do ya think he'll do it?" Angelina remarked from her place on the love seat. "Fly to the Ministry on a broom?"

The other students snickered while Hermione huffed indignantly. "You don't know him!"

"Whatever it is, Miss Granger," the Prefect interrupted before the girl could earn the ire of her housemates. "Until you have sufficient proof, there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"Bu..Bu..but..he!" Hermione tried to protest but the Prefect already turned her back on the girl.

Hermione dropped onto a lone chair, thinking of ways to catch the green-eyed boy red-handed. Until a voice interrupted her musings.

"Hallucination," Ron Weasely declared as he adopted the expression of a wise man. "The first stage of Hallucination."

"...What?"

Ron readied himself for a lengthy explanation.

"First stage of Hallucination," he repeated and parroted the words Harry said to him. "You think you heard something when you didn't hear anything."

Hermione continued to blink in bafflement. "…just what?"

'Man, this girl is really thick, ain't she?' Ron thought tiredly.

"You think Harry said something when in fact, he didn't say anything," Ron explained with new-found patience. His days in the hospital wing were at least good for something.

"You mean..."

"This is all your imagination, Granger," Ron dropped the bombshell. "I suffered from it too."

"I know I heard it!" Hermione finally snapped out of her stupor. 'Just who does this boy think he is...'

"Do you have a pet?" Ron asked out of the blue.

"I-I don't."

"You don't," Ron paused to build up the suspense. "Or you think you don't?"

Hermione couldn't have rolled her eyes harder. "You're out of your mind."

'This is a tough case,' Ron let out a sigh. "Do you remember how Malfoy was arrested by the Aurors?"

"Of course, I do," Hermione looked affronted. "How can anyone forget that?"

Ron held back tears at finally finding a kindred spirit. He really shouldn't have gone to the twins for confirmation regarding that story. "That didn't happen, Hermione."

Hermione was speechless at the monumental stupidity of what she was witnessing. 'Is this boy for real?'

Ron used the silence to finally let out all the emotions he was holding back for months. "Marry me!"

That was definitely not the start of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

Harry was seated in his usual chair in the Headmaster office. This was his customary detention of the month. He was trying to lift objects into the air without a wand and suffice to say, it was coming along just horribly.

A dozen sophisticated and complex looking objects lay broken on the floor but the Headmaster reassured him that he could repair everything with a flick of his hand. He did it too! Harry just couldn't wait until he reached that level of mastery. The evil chuckle he let out at the thought of all things he could do with a flick of a hand elicited a wary glance from the headmaster.

Apparently, levitating objects wandlessly was the first step of many to reach that level of mastery.

The Headmaster was sitting in his throne-like chair as he read his mail. There was a foot high stack of letters on the table and Harry had no delusions that Headmaster would even mind him throughout the detention.

Harry ate a lemon drop every time he failed at levitating the object and from the rapid twitching of Dumbledore's left eye, he wasn't pleased about it. Good motivation, though. For the Headmaster.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore looked relieved at the interruption. Or maybe he was happy that Harry at least wouldn't be snacking on _his lemon drops_ if the green-eyed boy was talking. Dumbledore wondered whether the detention was a way to punish the boy or himself.

"How often do you go to the Ministry of Magic?"

Dumbledore placed the letter on his desk and steepled his fingers in front of his face. "Occasionally."

"Do you apparate?" Harry asked with evident curiosity.

"Just like Hogwarts, you can't apparate into the Ministry, Harry," Dumbledore answered. His eyes were twinkling like Christmas lights behind his glasses. A sign that the Headmaster was thinking over something furiously. Or that he knew something you didn't. Or he just wants to piss you off. "Why do you ask, my boy?"

"Since I am a part of the wizarding world now, I think it's my responsibility to learn about the Ministry of Magic," Harry fibbed, giving quite a convincing nod.

"Any other lie and I would've at least tried to believe it," Dumbledore replied just as convincingly.

'Knew it!' Harry cursed himself in his mind. 'Why do I keep forgetting that this is 'The Albus Dumbledore?''

"I know Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain," Harry began as he leaned back in his chair. "So, I was wondering how secure the Ministry is..."

Even though this was topic was as random as they came, Dumbledore decided to humor the boy. "Well, Hogwarts's wards were placed one above the other for centuries...so, it's surely the thickest defense, if not the strongest. While Ministry lacks the sheer quantity of wards Hogwarts has, its wards are of a better...quality. Nonetheless, every defense has its holes. So it's difficult to compare the two, Harry."

Dumbledore explained further after noticing the befuddled look on Harry's face. "Suppose, let's considered Phoenix Travel. Fawkes here can take me anywhere in the world and no amount or type of wards can stop me. What good is the defense then?"

'Without any markers?' Harry wanted to ask.

Harry, even though it's tough to tell at times, was a prideful person. So when he heard that this bird could do what his cards could without any limitations, skepticism bubbled within him. He jumped to his feet and walked over to the perch where the Phoenix was sitting.

"Are you saying that this little bird can take you anywhere on the planet?" Harry poked at the tiny golden-red bird with his thumb and withdrew his finger before it could bite in retaliation. He gave a snicker as he stared at the bird that could snugly fit in his palm. "Color me skeptical, Professor."

Before Harry could even hear Dumbledore's reply, he was engulfed in a torrent of flames and a moment later, the only sign that Harry Potter had stood there was a small scorch mark on the floor.

"Phoenixes are prideful creatures," Dumbledore spoke, even though there was no one in the room.

Phoenix Travel was a precarious thing, considered to be as dangerous as wrestling with a troll; Only insane people do it, or the stupidly strong ones. Especially when the Phoenixes were in their younger years since baby Phoenixes lack a sense of direction. You never knew where on the planet you appear.

Dumbledore let out a sigh. He couldn't let a student be harmed under his watch. He mused, not for the first time, if punishing the mischievous boy was worth all the headaches.

* * *

Harry landed on the ground in an ungraceful heap. "Stupid, little, deep fried, chicken!"

" _Get off me!_ " An angry, feminine voice shouted in a language he didn't understand from below him.

Harry looked down to stare into two stunningly dark-blue eyes. He didn't know how long he stared into her eyes but when she spoke again, his stare descended down to her lips. They moved so softly – so entrancing – that he couldn't even perceive what she was shouting.

His eyes deliberately roamed all over her face. Lustrous silver – Silver! - framed the most breathtakingly beautiful face he had ever seen. Her skin seemed to be glowing with a radiance that put the scorching sun above to shame. Her silver hair was sprawled over like a halo, with a few bangs falling down on her face.

Almost hesitantly, he moved a hand and gently tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ear. There! Perfect. She seemed stunned at what he did and once again she spoke something he could barely understand. Fair skin, Angular face, round eyes and softest lips he had ever seen on a human. Those seemed to be the only things he could concentrate on. Suddenly, getting up to his feet didn't seem like a wise idea.

He hoped he didn't die and stumble upon an angel.

Of course not. Heaven would be the last place he would be sent to after he died. Amen.

Any further thoughts were halted when a knee planted itself into his stomach. "Yikes!"

Harry rolled over on the ground in pain, with tears springing up to his eyes. That was one vicious kick. "You could have just asked me to get off!"

Now that she was standing, she looked older than him. His eyes drifted down to her body. Budding breasts and shapely curves. Yep, definitely older.

The sun was shining down upon him with a vengeance, as though it was punishing him for previously thinking that its radiance was no match for the girl's beauty. Harry still stood by his thoughts.

Now that he thought about it, it was warm. Warmer than it should be in the month of November. Even the trees were thinner and the air had a magical, almost excited, feel to it. "Where the hell am I?"

The blushing girl seemed to understand his question. She pointed at the land and then at him. "France."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Evidently, as fast as humanly possible is not that fast, after all.**

 **To be honest, I started writing this chapter on March 1. One thing happened after the other and I picked it up again two days ago. A lot of ideas and plots changed from then to now. For the better, I'm sure.**

 **So for those who thought that this story was dead, and were making plans to murder me...There's no need for that now.**

 **Long Reviews make me post long chapters. That's all I'm going to say.**


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